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#I have some(?) Thoughts re: how the brothers might have felt post-Fall that were running around the mousewheel of my brain
vforys · 5 months
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fool's gold
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alwaysteveswife · 1 year
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Subject 08 | Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
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a/n: Yes, I posted the above because I was going to do this 🕴 although I thank the person who posted a link, thanks <3.
The zombie virus has spread rapidly. Scientists are desperate to find a cure, and sometimes, on difficult occasions, questionable actions need to be taken.
Warnings: A little bit of fluff at the end, angst (seriously, this was supposed to have just a little bit, but for some reason I feel like the ending says something very different), human trials, confinement.
Words: 1,368
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The noise of the machines unbalanced Y/N's consciousness. The beeping of her heartbeat, the needles through her arms, draining her blood rampantly. Fear flooded her slowly as she reacted again.
She couldn't remember how she had gotten there, much less who the men were who were preparing a fluorescent yellow liquid and inserting it into a large needle.
The first thing she thought as she saw it was that her death was approaching. How disappointed she was. She had managed to run from Zombies, survived the onslaught of psychopathic people trying to attack her for simply not being part of their side, and now she was captured by strangers with horrendously colored injections?
"Subject 08 has awakened, sir" spoke one of the men wrapped in a white suit and blue pouch shoes "shall we continue with the procedure?"
A shiver ran through her, what procedure were they talking about? She didn't know, but it didn't sound good at all. Fear began to consume her bit by bit, thinking of her family, her brother, her mom, all those people who meant something to her, would this be the end of her? Just when she thought she might be free?
All her thoughts stopped when she felt a sharp prick in her neck. The needle was so cold it hurt. She could feel the liquid coursing through her veins and making her body burn, almost as if his body was being deformed and re-formed.
She tried to scream, but she couldn't. A brown leather belt had been placed over his mouth to keep her from making noise. She nibbled at it, spat and screamed on it, but it was all to no avail. No one could hear her, at least no one decent enough to release her.
Sooner rather than later, the pain became so unbearable that she ended up falling unconscious.
When she opened her eyes she was no longer on that horrible stretcher, surrounded by guys in white suits and strange devices. She had been locked in a high-tech cell. There was only a bed and a bathroom, the only way out was a glass door, which she assumed was armored, with a few holes to let air in.
She surveyed the place, determined to get out of there cost what it would cost.
"Hey" said a blonde girl with bright blue eyes and a white robe that covered her almost completely "how are you?" she crouched on the other side of the door, resting her hand on the glass and smiling kindly.
'Am I dead and an angel came for me?' Y/N thought, watching as the nameless girl's skin was almost as white as the walls, would she have low sugar?
"I'm Allyson" she muttered, taking a small key and opening a hatch the size of her arm "actually, I'm in charge of subject 010" she smiled again, passing a tray of food through the hatch, "but I couldn't help but feel guilty for giving food to him and not you."
Y/N frowned in confusion. Why was the girl being nice? Why did she seem to care about her? Why was she embarrassed for bringing her food? Maybe she really had died.
"Surely you are very dazed" the concern in her voice was genuine, and it made Y/N wonder if she was really aware of what they were doing here "I never agreed with the system in this place, consent for procedures are very important to me, but no one listens to a recent college graduate."
"What is this place?" she mumbled, eyeing the food suspiciously.
"It's a lab located in Hawkins, Indiana" Allyson nodded confidently, as if trying to affirm to herself what she was saying "our team is charged with finding a cure for the zombie virus"
"So what am I doing here?" she knew the answer, it wasn't stupid, but she still preferred to hear it from someone, that would make it more real.
"They checked your medical records and thought you fit the profile" she sighed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her actions, "you're basically a test subject."
"A lab mouse" Y/N growled, clenching her jaw tightly.
"Welcome to the mousetrap" said a man with mockery in his voice.
Y/N stood up, searching with his eyes for whoever said that, but she empty looked almost empty, except for Allyson.
"Don't be like that with her" Allyson scolded the guy, frowning slightly "You know well how hard it is to get here without knowing anything."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever" he muttered as footsteps were felt in the cell next door.
"Is that my cellmate or something?"
"Neighbor" nodded the girl with a smile "I know it's stupid and very hypocritical of me to say this, but I hope you can feel comfortable here, I'll do my best to give you the best treatment."
Y/N just nodded, knowing she would have no choice but to get used to this hell they called a lab.
After Allyson had left the food in the cell next door, silence reigned in the place. Apparently, the two of them were the only ones in the place.
"What's your name?" muttered the boy next to him, hitting the wall with something that sounded similar to a ball.
"What?" replied Y/N, staring at the white wall as if she could pierce the plaster.
"Your name" he laughed softly, causing baby butterflies in her stomach "or do you not have one?"
"Yes, yes I do" she took a breath, cursing herself for feeling things in a situation like this "my name is Y/N".
"Edward" replied the boy back "although I prefer Eddie, he's more casual, you know? Edward doesn't go with my style" he joked, eliciting a slight chuckle from her.
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"Well?" said Eddie, crossing his arms with a proud smile on his face "What do you think?"
"I like it" Y/N nodded, looking at the walls painted in her favorite color, "Lucky we were able to find a jar of this color."
"Right?" he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently kissing her shoulder, "It feels good to start from scratch, even when the world is ending outside."
They both laughed, knowing that their stay here might well not be permanent, but they would enjoy it as much as possible. They had been separated for years, and being reunited in a village with a small group of people who were in charge of keeping it standing and making sure no zombies got in was like a wish come true.
Almost all the houses were empty, barely using four of the entire village. They were white, but stained by moss and rain. The oak wood windows were beautiful, and some even had patio sets. It felt almost like paradise.
"The first group leaves today to forage" Eddie muttered, sighing heavily, "I get to go with Steve, Jonathan and Billy."
"Wow, what an interesting group" replied Y/N teasingly, knowing the atmosphere between the four of them was awkward "I wish you luck, handsome".
"I'm gonna need it" he gasped dramatically, letting go of Y/N and plopping down on the makeshift bed "You're lucky, you got to go with Robin, Allyson and Dustin, they're the nicest."
"Stop complaining and go get ready, none of them, with the exception of Jonathan, have any patience for you" she grabbed a leather jacket from the beat up, rusty closet, throwing it in his face.
In less than ten minutes Eddie was ready to leave. He stood in front of the exit gate, watching some of the residents dismiss the seekers. In the worst cases none came back. In most, this was not the case.
"I'll be back safe and sound," he raised his hand, pretending to do a scout salute.
"You'd better, Munson" Y/N muttered, feeling his stomach twist with worry. Suddenly the uncertainty became too great and a pain in his chest prevented her from breathing "I love you".
"I love you too" he smiled brightly, cupping her cheeks and kissing her lips lovingly. Deep down, they both knew it was a goodbye kiss, it always was when this time came, and they always came back.
She always hoped he would.
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cupidcreates · 3 years
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Hi, I hope the last day of 2020 will be a success for you. I have a request for yandere Dabi and / or Chisaki when they hear that their dear, affectionate s/o call them "love" or "happiness of my life"
Affectionate Names
With Yanderes Dabi and Overhaul
(Oh my fucking GOD beech I’m SO SORRY this took LITERAL MONTHS to post. I promise I’m never gonna let an ask sit for that long again holy crap. I really hope this was worth the wait bestie, I tried really hard to make it cute for you nonny. Hope you like it!)
Touya Todoroki - Dabi
Disgust, Anger, Hatred, Fear, Dabi’s used to these emotions playing across the faces of the people he interacts with. He knows how he appears to others, how his very visage causes visceral reactions of discomfort in others. He’s fine with that, in fact he revels in it.
If it’s not the abject loathing of a stranger than it’s the cool detachment of his allies. Dabi finds a sort of warmth, even an odd sense of comfort in their gazes. It’s distant, reserved, and to the point; Dabi never has to question what his allies want from him or what their intentions are.
The indifference many find cold is rather temperate to Dabi. 
The fair weather is what he likes. Nothing too cold, nothing too hot, nothing can be resurrected from mild memories.
Dabi was content with this treatment.
Until he met you.
It had been a long time since anything stoked the kind of fire in his chest like you did. Heat typically coincided with anger, but you didn’t make him angry.
That’s not to say he didn’t mistake it for anger at first. He definitely wanted you dead, seemingly at random, for a few days after seeing you pass by him on the street.
But after a while of reflection he realized you didn’t ignite his hate the way thoughts of his family, his father, or society did.
No, this was a completely different feeling, something brand new.
Something to be explored, immediately.
There was something about you he needed, something you had that he had to get for himself.
And Dabi’s not one to not get his way.
He set out to have you, and have you he did. It took longer than he might have liked (though, anything but immediate compliance is too long for Dabi) and you put up a better fight than he would have expected but he did eventually get you swept away from your previous life.
In his mind he won you over.
In your mind, and in reality, he stole you away from your home in the dead of night and trapped you in an undisclosed location until you eventually broke and developed Stockholm syndrome.
After all, he wasn’t mean to you. He kept you fed and watered, the basement stayed a nice mild temperature, and the rats that scuttled about were actually kind of cute when you looked at them the right way.
You were eventually happy, which is what Dabi wanted as it finally allowed him to get close to you.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted from you. He’d started by simply sitting by your side (once you had calmed down enough to let him do so without screaming) then he progressed to holding you (awkward as it was at first) and once he could trust that you wouldn’t run off he allowed you free roam of the hideout.
Free roam as in you were attached to his hip.
He brought you nearly everywhere, as if he was a child and you were his favorite stuffed bear. He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed you around, but he figured he’d find out if he gave it enough time.
And it’s not like you were trouble, you were actually very helpful, getting him out of more than a few scrapes and sticky situations.
He eventually surmised that this, whatever you two had going on, was something like the affection he missed out on in his youth. It was nice to hold your hand, nice to sit you in his lap as he listened to Shigaraki drone on about his next plan, nice to spend a night with you on the rooftops. 
The time he spent with you didn’t strike a chord in him like his first encounter with you did, but he was content.
He could only ever be content.
He didn’t need anything stronger than baseline serenity.
Or so he thought.
He thought right up until the night he was sitting alone in his room (room being a generous term for the hovel hole in the wall he kept his nearly flattened mattress in) dissociating after a very long day.
Dabi tried not to dissociate frequently, it was best to stay aware of your surroundings when you’re a wanted criminal, but when he did allow himself to fall into this state he was typically here for hours. Nearly comatose as he fled back into his mind.
You knocking softly at the door went completely unnoticed, in fact he didn’t even realize you were there until you had entered the room and sat next to him on the mattress.
Your presence took him completely by surprise and shocked him out of his stupor. It took him a moment to recover his composure and re-mask, and in those several seconds with his guard down you saw Dabi’s face more youthful and innocent than you ever had.
You’d asked him a question, he was aware of that much, but the only thing he caught, the only thing he registered was the word at the very end of your sentence.
“Are you okay, love?”
Love
Rather forcefully Dabi was taken back to his childhood; before his quirk manifested, before his siblings were born to replace him, before his own family turned on him in favor of his youngest brother. It had been so long since someone had called him love; so long since his mother would come into his room early in the morning and brush his bangs out of his face, softly calling to him to wake him up and ready him for the day.
Having already been in a vulnerable state, the name cut through him like a knife. Shaken to his core by the memories ripped fresh in his mind he was, for the first time in his life, grateful that his tear ducts had been burned away so long ago.
He gave nothing away, his face already masked up again and his demeanor its typical cool indifference. He spoke to you as he always had, the tremble in his voice only perceptible to him.
He pushed his head into your shoulder and was silent for a while, just taking in you presence, before offhandedly telling you that he didn’t mind if you called him that again. In private of course.
Love
He thought he could get used to that.
Kai Chisaki - Overhaul
Open affection was not only not necessary in Chisaki’s life but also abjectly disgusting.
Perhaps he never really had good examples of tender kindness and open endearment as a child. Maybe he simply couldn’t comprehend affection in the way others could.
In any case, physical fondness and other such displays of the sentiment were completely foreign to Chisaki.
He didn’t mind this, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Having a partner of any sort other than business would only slow him down.
Oh but you just had to come along, didn’t you? Had to go nosing around where you didn’t belong, a foolish venture already, and then you had to be incompetent's enough to get yourself caught waist deep in his business.
It didn’t matter, you didn’t matter, whatever you knew about what he was doing didn’t mean a damn thing. All he had to do now was keep you quiet.
For good.
He had to kill you, this much he knew. He’d have no issue doing it, after all who were you anyway? A nosy little cashier at a run-down shop on the brink of bankruptcy. You had no family, if you did they certainly didn’t care about you if the state of and neighborhood your apartment was located in was anything to go by.
You were a threat to the sanctity of his mission, a potential interference to his operation. Simply put you had to go. This was fine, nothing personal. Just business.
But oh you just had to didn’t you? Had to look at him with the most pathetically pleading eyes he’s ever seen as you begged him to let you live. You already knew what he was up to, undoubtedly you understood the torture and death he willingly inflicted upon others. You knew the pleading would do you no good, surely you knew your death was inevitable.
Except that it wasn’t, was it.
Because you had to, you had to come along with a face too sweet to be atomized. Had to, somehow, worm your way into his brain and stop him from dismantling your upper body.
Was this your quirk? Were you somehow influencing him? It had to be something of your doing, the tightness in his chest and warmth in his stomach was something of your doing.
He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to destroy something so precious, so pure even. He just couldn’t do it.
But no obstacle comes without workarounds, and he didn’t have an underground labyrinth of empty rooms to not be used.
So if killing you was out of the picture, his only recourse was to keep you hidden away. At least long enough for him to figure out a permanent solution for you.
Living toys are so much more fun to play with anyway.
He kept you holed up in a secret room, watched your every move as months passed. You were very interesting to him, in fact he found almost all of his (precious little) spare time consumed by you. He made sure to visit you daily, though your fear kept you mostly mute at the beginning.
Once you were sure he wasn’t going to obliterate you, he noticed you relaxed and even opened up a little bit. You even allowed him to touch you gently a few times and, to his surprise, he never broke out after his skin made contact with yours.
He figured you must have been sent to him, by some divine or cosmic intervention. You grew on him quickly and he made sure to pamper you in any way he could, moving you to a larger, more luxurious wing of the lair and making sure you had three meals a day of only the best quality food.
One morning he’d decided to visit you earlier than usual, walking down the long hallway towards your room and considering the topic of conversation today.
As he neared your room he overheard you speaking with the associate assigned to your meal delivery today. Pausing just outside the door he caught the tail end of your conversation.
“...so lonely until Chisaki visits. The room is lovely but he’s truly the only happiness of my rather dull life.”
Chisaki considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was a clever deception? Something for him to intentionally overhear and cause him to lower his guard?
Couldn’t be though, he’d never visited you this early, if you wanted to deceive him you’d have waited until your evening meal to speak these words.
A sudden, rather disconcerting warmth overtook Chisaki; Like a flower of light suddenly blooming in his chest he was overtaken by the urge to abandon everything and stay by your side until he withered away and his bones turned to dust.
Regaining his sanity he shook the thought from his head. He’d worked too hard for too long to let go of this now. No, he’d have to continue with his operation, the consequences of letting go now would be too great.
He was, however, sorry to hear that your life thus far had been dull. Had you said this months ago he would have scoffed, because of course the life of a cashier was dull; but now, after months of you having been here, it should have improved.
The only assumption left for him to make was that this must have been his doing. Fair enough on his part, as he couldn’t be sure trusting you was a wise idea.
But if this was how you truly felt about him, maybe he could consider letting you have greater roam of the property. He might even allow you time outside.
Only if you brought your happiness along, of course.
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sleepywinchester · 3 years
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Fool For You Pt. 8
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Summary:  You are back in your hometown Freeridge to take care of your sister Jasmine and your father after being away for six years. You left Freeridge looking for a better life but in that process you had to let go of someone you loved. But you’re back and things are not the same but they sure feel like it.
Words: 2K+
Warnings: N/A
A/N: Hola!!!! Hope everyone is safe at home! This continues the story as a some sort of a series re-write. It won’t be something of all the episodes but the main ones of where Spooky appears. Hope you guys like this and always feel free to leave some feedback is so appreciated it.
This was supposed to be posted for Valentine's day but life happens and I ended up finishing this chapter 3 months later... lol
| MESSAGE BOX | HAPPY READING!!!
(english is not my first language, might be some typos around)
Title:  Happy Valentine's Day
Chapters: Uno - Dos - Tres - Cuatro - Cinco - Seis - Siete
Six years have passed since you spent Valentine's day with Oscar. The memories of the last one brought a lot of good and mischief feelings to your soul. He had just inherited his father's beautiful red car. Memories of the week prior to the festivities, all he talked about him taking you for a day trip to Santa Monica. A chuckle filled the space as you remembered when you both got caught having a making out section by the beach.
“What are you giggling about mamas?” Oscar’s deep voice brought you back to the present.
You turned around standing in the middle of the bathroom doorway, seeing him sitting by the edge of the bed. He was wearing a black tank and his khaki dickies. Leaning against the door frame with your electric pink toothbrush on hand you gazed at him and took the brush out to speak.
“I was reminiscing about our last Valentine's day together…” you smirked before placing the tooth brush inside your mouth.
Oscar instantly chuckled, “Santa Monica wasn’t ready for those dos traviesos teenagers.”
You took the brush out, turning back to spit out the toothpaste foam and have some water. “Those?” You said leaving the toothbrush on the counter and walked back to the room and stood in front of Oscar. He looked up, his hazel eyes piercing yours. “Baby we are still dos traviesos,” you said before kissing him.
He followed your lead within seconds, letting his body fall back on the bed. You continued kissing his hips as his hands traveled your body. “You got time?” Your eyes were looking at his as your hands were on his belt.
“Para ti? All the fucking time,” he smirked and then continued kissing him.
The morning activities had woken up a hunger for both of you. Oscar was speaking with some homies on the phone as you cooked scrambled eggs with bacon. They had some runs to make but deeply you hoped those didn’t take long. Out of nowhere the thought of Caesar crossed your mind and that you never heard him come home last night.
“Hey, have you seen-,”
Your words were cut by Caesar himself busting inside the house yelling.
“Hey! Hey! There’s a dude posted up outside!’
In a matter of seconds Oscar stood from the chair, grabbed the gun from on top of the counter and stormed outside. Your heart began to bump so fast, scared for both of them.
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Quickly you grabbed the phone and began dialing Sad Eyes as you peeped from the window and instantly recognized who that man was.
“Oh shit,” you said, putting the phone down. Mr. Diaz has been in jail for almost a decade. You haven’t seen him since middle school when he got locked up. Oscar aura changed completely at the sight of his father. When he turned his body, you saw it on his eyes, he wasn’t happy his father was back. Mr. Diaz grabbed his duffel bag from the floor and crossed the street making his way towards the house.
“Babe?” You called him as he walked in. “When - How?”
Oscar shook his head groaning, “I have no fucking clue.”
You stood by the kitchen watching Mr. Diaz cautiously walk inside the house. His eyes roamed every inch of the space but when he spotted you, his eyes disappeared because of the big smile he gave you.
“Y/N,” he said.
You smiled back, “Hey Mr. Diaz…”
“I can see you two still together… Good.” He said looking at Oscar and you.
You smile awkwardly, “Yeah…”
Mr. Diaz picked up the awkwardness of the moment but decided to ignore it by walking around the kitchen and living room area. He admired the house as if it was an old museum.
You decided to walk around the living room and sit next to Oscar who was already sitting on the sofa with Caesar. You were right in the middle of the two brothers.
“So when did you get out?” Caesar asked, his voice had the tone of a 3 year old excited kid.
“Yesterday,” Mr. Diaz replied, still contemplating the house, “Looks kind of the same…” he said looking around, “doesn’t smell the same tho.”
You smiled proudly at his comment, “That would be my doing.“
“You live here?” He asked you.
Your eyes felt Oscar staring, it was obvious how he felt about his father being out of prison. He didn’t want him here but looking at his father, you really didn’t think he cared what Oscar thought or not. “Yeah.” You looked at your boyfriend. “I’ve added a couple things,” your sight went back to Mr. Diaz, “you know a bit of a female touch.”
“That’s good,”’he sat down across from the sofa. Mr. Diaz's eyes were locked on Oscar before switching them to his younger son. “You in school?” His Mexican accent was heavy and distinguished.
“Of course he is,” Oscar replied for his younger brother.
He looked at his older son, “How about you? Going to college?”
You saw Oscar raise an eyebrow, not believing the question he just got asked.
“Seriously?” Oscar said with unbelief.
“It's nice to see you,” Caesar told his dad, who just answered with a nod as he took a drag off his cigarette. “Do you have plans?”
“No,” he said, “just wanted to see you guys before I go to Bakersfield. Got a job lined up.”
“Caesar, you need to get to school,” Oscar said with his tone firm. You watched Caesar trying to give his older puppy eyes to let him stay but they didn’t work on him. Instead he rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag.
He was about to leave when he turned around. Caesar's body shook as he tried to figure out how to talk to his father. “Hey... Do you maybe I don’t know… wanna hang? After school?”
“Sure,” Mr. Diaz replied without much emotion.
Not being facial expressive in this family, the male Diaz didn’t show much emotion or even spoke much for that matter. You watched how Caesar smiled happily, for years Oscar was the only father figure to him. Meanwhile Oscar never really had a father figure.
“So where are you staying?” Oscar asked his father once his brother was out of the house.
He looked at his son replying before taking another dragg. “Here.”
In that moment Oscar stood up from the couch, you could feel how pissed off he was. You watched him walk towards the bedroom, leaving you alone with Mr. Diaz.
“He hates me,” he said with his voice low.
Another thing he had in common with his son was that his eyes spoke a thousand words.
You didn’t know how to speak to him or what to say, last time you saw this man was in 9th grade. “He-,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know if he hates you or not… it's been years and honestly we haven’t talked about you in the past months.”
“Months?” he arched an eyebrow confused, “you two were inseparable when kids thought you were together all these years.”
“Not really,” you said standing up, “we broke up well-,” you shrugged, “I broke up with him when we graduated high school, I moved away for a couple years but I came back a couple months ago and now we are together again.”
Mr. Diaz nodded his head, “At least you found each other again.”
“Si…” you said getting distracted by a loud crash coming from the bedrooms, “Tengo que ir donde él… Hablamos más luego.”
The noise of bangs and things breaking became louder the more you reached the room. Once in front of the closed door, you took a big deep breath preparing yourself to see a very pissed off Oscar. Before you opened the door, the loud noises suddenly stopped. The first thing you noticed when you opened the door was all the broken glass on the floor. Your eyes scanned around the messy room until they met Oscar once again sitting by the edge of the bed in silence. Instantly you noticed the blood on his hands and had a small panic attack.
“Oscar!” You shouted quickly running into the bathroom for the first aid kit. This was one of the first things you bought when you moved in with him. You know that sooner or later you would need it and you weren’t wrong. Going back to him you knelt down between his legs, his eyes were stuck on the floor, filled with rage.
“Talk to me,” you looked into his eyes that were filled with suppressed tears. “Oscar… hablame.”
He hissed when you poured antiseptic over his cut, “Crap.”
“Exactly,” you glared at him, “Why were you breaking all this crap!?” Oscar rolled his eyes. “I saw that,” you told him as you continued to cover his cut.
“He hasn’t called or written for years and now he just comes back as if nothing ever happened?!” Oscar let out what was bothering him. “I-,” he clenched his jaw, “I hate him.”
“Don’t say that,” you looked into his eyes. “He- he wasn’t the best father but es tu papa.”
“I hate him, Y/N…” Oscar's eyes were full of rage.
You sighed, finishing up putting on the bandage and standing up. Today wasn’t supposed to be full of troubles from the past. It was supposed to be a chill day with your boyfriend. You were hoping to go on a date and have a normal Valentines day and you weren’t going to have less. Oscar and you needed an escape from the real world. “Let’s get out of here,” you told him.
He looked at you confused, “Que?”
“Let’s get out of here,” you said again, “is Valentine’s day for fucks sake. I am not letting your father’s return ruin this day.”
You could see how the rage in his eyes slowly burned out at the same time a small smirk formed on the corner of his lips. He sighed looking away for a second before standing up and holding you close.
“Tienes razon,” he said, “let’s get out of here.”
Both changed into new clothes and made an overnight bag. There weren’t plans made for today but you and Oscar were big fans of spontaneity. Something would come up and honestly being away from home sounded like a great idea at this moment. Oscar texted his brother letting him know he was going to be out for a day. You chuckled when he out-loud said “don’t do anything stupid” as he typed.
“You know that’s practically impossible,” you told him. The breeze of the coast made your hair fly with the air as your extremely hot man drove. “Those chamacos go from one stupid thing to another,” you continued, “we weren’t like that.”
“We were too busy having sex,” Oscar said, “in this car.”
You chuckled quickly looking at the backseat and reminiscing, “Ah, the old days but I’m pretty sure Caesar and Monse are doing something.”
Oscar’s face instantly looked so disgusted, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
You chuckled, “Es la verdad.”
“They broke up,” Oscar said.
“How many times did we break up cuando eramos chamacos?”
“Too many fucking times,” he let out.
Once again you chuckled, “And we always ended up back together… Those two are the fucking same.”
He smirked, deep down he was happy his little brother had someone. His eyes found yours again, “Where are we going?”
“There is this small inn by Santa Monica. The reviews said it is the perfect couples getaway.” You finished the sentence with a flirtatious wink. “We can be more traviesos.”
“I hope Caesar doesn’t get in any trouble while we’re down here,” he let out.
You caressed the back of Oscar's neck, smiling when he let his shoulders relax at your touch. “Everything is going to be fine,” you told him. “My sister is hanging out with them and if anything happens, we will be the first to know. Now can you just give me your all devoted attention and don’t think about your brother and his crazy friends…” You kissed his lips.
Oscar looked at your eyes for a second before turning his focus back to the road. For the rest of the hour you tried your best to take Oscar's mind off his father and his brother.
/ / /
“This is fucking nice,” Oscar let out putting his duffel bag on top of the white bed.
You chuckled, “Look at the view.”
He stood by you on the window holding you by the waist and taking in the beautiful sight of the beach. “Thank you,” he whispered in your ear.
“For what?” you smiled.
“You make everything better,” he said, “if it wasn’t for you this day would have fucking sucked but you… you made it better.”
It was a rare thing for him to be so spoken of his feelings but God how much you loved it when these unusual moments happened. Without hesitating you kissed his lips.
“I got an idea,” he stopped kissing you. “We need to get ready.”
You certainly loved surprises and even more when coming from him. For tonight you decided to wear a white dress with high heel sandals. You wore your hair natural just like your make up only adding a bright red lipstick.
“Wow,” you let out when you saw Oscar walking out of the bathroom. He was wearing a white button long sleeve shirt and khaki pants with his converse. You smiled taking in how handsome he looked. “You look hot.”
He smiled for you, “Tu tambien mamas’,” he walked around you, “I’m so lucky.”
You got closer to him, “Yes you are,” kissing him.
He held your hand as you two walked through the streets of Santa Monica. The fresh air coming from the ocean was salty and so pleasant. You followed Oscar lead down the streets until you two got to a small restaurant by the beach.
“Una mesa para dos,” Oscar spoke to the hostess.
She smiled and showed you two the way to a small table outside. The sounds of the waves in the background played better than any song. There was a small candle on the table, lighting bright enough to see Oscar’s eyes on you. Moments like this when there could be a million people around and his eyes were always on you. These were the moments you felt like the only woman in this world.
“This is nice,” you told him, “unusual for us but nice.”
“Our usual dates involve shrimp tacos and watching movies at home,” he said reading the menu.
“I love those dates too,” you said.
Instantly he looked up from the menu and winked giving you a small smirk. “But sadly those are postponed until nuevo aviso because my father decided to just come home after a fucking decade.”
You sighed, “Oscar can we just forget about your dad for one night?”
“You’re right,” he sighed, “Perdon.”
“He told me he thinks you hate him,” you couldn’t help but ignore your own words and talk about his father. Instantly he shot a ‘are you serious?’ glare at you. Innocently you shrugged, “Sorry pero you started.”
“I do hate him,” he said with no remorse.
“Why?”
Oscar put the menu to the side, leaning backwards and crossing his arms onto his chest. “I wrote letters to him,” he began to say. You could feel the sadness in his tone, “for years I wrote and called… You know what I got in return? Nothing.” He placed both of his elbows on the table, holding his hands onto a tight fist. You placed your hand on top of his, “When he left I was a kid but I had to grow up and be a father for my little brother without knowing what a father was. Maybe if he had kept contact or replied to my letter maybe I wouldn’t have turned out so fucked up but he didn’t and here I am… A fucking mess.”
“Hey,” you hold his chin up, “we’re all a fucking mess but it’s just life, you did the best you could and Caesar has turned out good.”
Oscar clenched his jaw, “I guess… I only had one normal while growing up though.”
“What?” You were curious about what his answer would be.
His eyes disappeared into a thin line as his smile grew bigger, “You.”
You giggled with happiness, “Baby I ain’t that normal.”
“You are,” he holds your hand softly caressing it, “I love you.”
You leaned forward kissing his perfect lips and whispering, “I love you too.”
tags are open: just comment or send me a message ;)
@flamingweasley @dolanackles @lcandothisallday @mmelissarenee @donnaintx @blckgrl-sunflower @jayankles oscar
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chalkrevelations · 3 years
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So, Word of Honor, Episode 36 (and “Episode” 37) again, because I want to do a little bit more unpacking of this, particularly with some of the extra material and information that people have been able to point me to.
Spoilers, obvs. For right now, I mainly want to pull out this bit of my initial reaction to 36 & 37, because I think it remains a key point for me:
It would be nice, though, if the connective tissue from 36 to 37 made any sense. Or existed whatsoever. Just, like, throw me a bone, show, some kind of explicit hand-waviness that actually gets mentioned for why Ye Baiyi apparently was not as smart as he thought he was and didn’t really know what he was talking about when he was doomsaying about how one of the pair will surely, oh surely perish. None of this “Sooooo, they managed to figure out the technique and master it?” from some random shidi who never actually gets an answer. I mean, the door was left open for fanwankery on this one, with what looks to be a very last-minute conceit of all this being a story told by grown-up Chengling to his disciples, which begs the question of how much of what he’s telling them is totally accurate, given any number of issues …
I do feel like there’s an interesting meta thing going on here, in that the entire show has been about – let’s be honest, it was never really about the plot – queer-coding this couple in ways that supposedly fly enough under the radar that people can handwave them as Just Good Friends and Brothers (I mean, I guess) with a Bury Your Gays tragic ending (ugh) for good measure. And Chengling is telling a story in-universe that seems to conform to some of this same formula. And yet, we all know well and good that these guys were husbands … So are we supposed to carry the same assurance out of the show, on a meta level, that what appears to be happening in the story at the end of Ep 36 – what we discover we’re learning through Chengling’s story-telling, isn’t really the truth? Just, look: While we’re getting the Good Friends and Brothers push, there’s stuff like obvious voice-over work that doesn’t match the much more queer version of what the actors actually said, which is apparently blazingly clear to any viewers who know Mandarin and can manage to lip-read. The show has literally put de-queered words into these characters’ mouths. You can’t trust what you hear. But apparently the show has also made this obvious enough that, if you’re a good enough speaker of the language the show is being told in, and you have a good enough eye, you can see what is actually going on. Are we being taught to trust our eyes more than our ears, are we being told that what we’re being told – by the end of Ep 36 on a meta level, by Ye Baiyi-through-Chengling’s-story on an in-universe level, and by what we learn about what happened from Chengling’s story, itself, also on an in-universe level – is inherently untrustworthy, but that if we “speak the language” of this show well enough, and have a good enough eye, we can decode it and see what “actually” happened and is later made explicit in Ep 37? 
So, that’s a lot, but the reason I wanted to pull it back out is because I feel like this no-homo, surface-level, smoke-and-mirrors effect that gets layered over a queer bedrock of “reality” is precisely what the show did with its ending, and I want to approach that on a couple of different levels. Particularly since I’ve seen several reactions from other people who didn’t seem to have seen/didn’t have access to the extra of “Ep” 37, or who also found it difficult and vaguely unsatisfying to make the leap from Ep 36 to full belief in, and commitment to, “Ep” 37.
When I first posted this, I was really leaning on the idea of a classic Rashomon effect, given that we see – imho – a final Zhou Zishu/Wen Kexing scene in Ep 36 that’s filmed to lead us to believe that Wen Kexing died, with a subsequent cut to Zhang Chengling wrapping up a telling of the “story” of ZZS and WKX to his disciples. The easiest fanwank on this is that all of what we’ve seen so far has been Chengling telling the story of ZZS and WKX to his disciples, making him an unreliable narrator who in fact doesn’t know the truth of what really happened. I was actually reminded of the contrast in The Untamed (god, I don’t need to warn for spoilers for The Untamed, do I, we’ve all seen Chen Qing Ling at this point, right? Anyway, SPOILERS FOR THE UNTAMED) between the cliff scene in Episode 1 when they make it look like Jiang Cheng stabbed Wei Wuxian, leading to his fall off the cliff, and you go back later and realize this is the version that the storyteller was telling to the people in the teahouse vs. Episode, god, what is it, 33? When we see the cliff scene in “real” time, and discover that’s not what actually happened, that what happened is that Jiang Cheng stabbed a rock and Wei Wuxian shook himself free of Lan Wangji’s grip to fall to his death. You can’t trust what you hear. Also … well, we’ll get back to Chengling in a minute.
The second level of uncertainty to unwind is Gao Xiaolian calling bs on Chengling’s story. So, I felt like the kid who’s practicing his forms in the snow and being coached by ZZS in “Ep” 37 might actually be someone, not just a random kid, and that might be important, but I could not for the life of me figure out who he might be. I wasn’t aware until I watched some of AvenueX’s wrap-up of the show (I think that’s the first place I heard this info pointed out) that this kid is supposed to be the son of Gao Xiaolian and Deng Kuan, and the dad who comes to take him home is Deng Kuan (formerly Da-shixiong of Yueyang Sect, who – let’s face it – Gao Xiaolian really wanted to marry). Seriously, I spent so much time making fun of ZZS’s stupid facial hair tricks in this show, and then they actually do just put a dumbass mustache on a guy, and I completely don’t recognize him. I have to admit, the mustache threw me enough that I had no idea that was Deng Kuan (well, and maybe only seeing him for three episodes also helped). But if that’s Deng Kuan, and if the kid is his and Gao Xiaolian’s son, then she would have some reasonable standing to know a story detailing WKX’s death was bs.
 Finally, and most crucially – thanks to everyone who directed me to resources (including AvenueX and other fans who were able to do some translation) who were able to talk about the voiceover work in this final ep, because when I talk about how you can’t trust what you hear, but if you speak the language well enough and have a good enough eye, you can catch what’s really going on? When I talk about de-queered words being put into these character’s mouths? Apparently, this is what happens to Chengling in the final scene. That last scene - and the story he tells his disciples - apparently DOES provide the connective tissue from Ep 36 to Ep 37, but you can’t trust what you hear. Apparently, this is one of the places where you can see something different from what you hear if you’re able to lip-read, with Chengling telling the disciples something much closer to the idea that two people who love each other equally can equally support each other through this cultivation technique and both come out alive.
In the AvenueX discussion of this (Livestream #21, starting around 1:22:30), there’s an additional tidbit about the use of the word “cauldron” – I believe by Ye Baiyi - to describe one person in the pair, a word with a specific and widely-understood meaning within the genre that’s not necessarily known outside of the genre with, yes, sexual connotations. (Come on, slash fans, don’t tell me you don’t giggle every time you pass a perfectly innocent Jiffy Lube auto shop, at something that the mundanes don’t think twice about.) Apparently, “cauldron” is in the script, I believe it’s in the English subs, and it apparently was in the original Chinese subs, until too many people started talking about it and how it had been slipped past censorship, because it’s a perfectly common Jiffy Lube auto shop, right? and then it appears Youku went back and changed the character in the Chinese subs to something that doesn’t even make any sense. So again, we get an example of a case where if you’re a good enough speaker of the language this show is being told in – in this case the vernacular of wuxia – with a good enough eye, you can catch what’s really going on. Something that then gets no-homo’d. And has some nonsensical de-queered meaning laid over top of it. How many times do we have to do this until we learn the lesson that you can’t trust what you hear?
 ANYWAY, I’m wondering if the visuals are important, too: Something we see in the last scene with ZZS and WKX in Ep 36, when WKX is either unconscious or dead (CLEARLY UNCONSCIOUS), is that ZZS – twice – doesn’t let WKX’s hands fall. He catches him by the wrists and then catches him again by the hands as WKX’s hands start to slip away from ZZS’s hands – aaaannnnd end scene. I have to wonder if that’s not a subtle but important detail, that we see ZZS refusing to let WKX physically slip away, and maybe, by implication, refusing to let WKX slip away from him into death.
Also, again with Ye Baiyi – in the flashback when WKX is yelling at ZZS, Ye Baiyi says “No one dies!” as he comes bursting into WKX’s sickroom. And then even reiterates it – “No one dies before me!” But then the voiceover during the qi transfer, he’s supposedly going on about here’s how WKX is going to have to kill himself to save his husband? I think the script has dropped the ball in a few places, but that would really be a tremendous flub. That also deserves some unpacking, but I’m running out of free time right now.
So, just some additional thoughts. I will probably have more, but next up, I think, will be a re-watch from the beginning.
One last thought, tho’: What’s the likelihood that Nian Xiang is Actual A-Xiang and Goa Xiaolian’s/Deng Kuan’s kid is Cao Weining, reincarnated?
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katblu42 · 3 years
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(As yet Untitled) Wheel of Whump #3
Some time ago I gave the wheel of whump a spin for each brother. I had 2 completed stories (which both turned out more fluff than whump), but then stalled. In honour of @gumnut-logic's Military Bros Day, and for @tsarinatorment's birthday I have just completed the third one!
It's Scott, and the wheel gave me Drowning and Alley.
Please note this has not been proofread - I wanted to get it posted before the day was over!
Wheel of Whump #3
He was here in New York City for a week, staying in the penthouse apartment a short car ride away from the office. A week filled with unavoidable, important Tracy Industries meetings. A week he was already wishing was over despite it being only Tuesday. He was over it. The petty bickering, the business politics, the smug, know-it-all idiots, the over-confident jerks and the patronising old-hats who forced him to continually prove he knew what he was doing. He’d had enough. And he’d already had enough of being under the watchful eye of the security detail every time he stepped outside the apartment.
So it was that Scott found his way out onto the pavement, shiny and slick from earlier rain, walking the short distance from the rear of the apartment building to the little coffee shop on the corner. He’d made this sneaky jaunt so many times before – a brief escape from the claustrophobic confines of the constant security presence – without incident. The coffee was good, but it was the pastries that kept him coming back. He wasn’t exactly sure of their official hours, but he’d never yet found them closed, so despite it being just before midnight on a Tuesday he was able to come away with a hot cup of (decaf) coffee and an almond scroll.
Even at this late hour traffic was almost constant, tyres flicking up misty spray from the oil-slick shiny, damp street as each vehicle passed. Almost halfway back to the apartment he heard the cry above the traffic’s white noise. A young, female voice. Indistinct, tearful, painful sounds punctuated by definite “No!”s and a “Please, don’t!”, then a screamed plea for help. It was coming from the narrow alley to he’d just passed. The alley was practically unlit and lined with large dumpsters that obscured his view, but he could see figures moving about deep in the shadows.
Before he had realised what he was doing he’d taken a few steps into the alley, calling out as he looked into the gloom.
“Hey! Everything okay?”
The scuffling sounds ahead of him ceased and he walked carefully forward on the muddy, pocked and potholed bitumen as he headed deeper into the narrow space between dumpsters. Despite his caution he never saw it coming. He had no chance to react. He received a solid blow to the back of the head and saw stars pinpricking his dimming vision. He didn’t feel himself fall, but he was very aware of his face hitting the wet, gravelly ground before he blacked out.
***
Gordon’s squidsense was tingling. He re-checked that everything and everyone was secured before Thunderbird Two could take off on the way to get the injured to hospital. Everything was as it should be but the tingling lingered in the back of his mind.
“Good to go back here, Virgil,” he relayed to his pilot over comms.
“FAB,” was the reply, simultaneous with the roar of VTOL as the giant aircraft began her ascent. “But something’s bothering you. Spill.”
“Squidsense is tingling.”
Having made sure the injured remained settled through take-off, Gordon made his way to his co-pilot seat. He’d barely sat down before contacting John.
“Hey, Thunderbird Five, give me a quick check in on Alan and Scott. I need to shift this uneasy feeling.”
He didn’t miss the concerned look Virgil shot across at him, but any comments he might have made were averted when the space above the dash lit up with John’s hologram.
“Funny you should ask that.” The furrow in John’s brow suggested nothing funny at all. “Alan’s fine, however I had some odd readings on Scott’s vitals, but now there’s nothing, and I can’t raise him on comms. His Security detail haven’t seen him since he returned to the apartment almost three hours ago. Eos is trying to track his phone, but it seems to be turned off.”
“It’s not like Scott to turn his phone off,” Virgil commented. “Could be a flat battery.”
“You’re not fooling anyone, Virge. You’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking – something’s wrong.” Gordon was certain it was Scott that had sent his uncanny knack for sensing trouble into overdrive, and he was formulating a plan of action. “John, send his head of security up to check on him. Since we’re headed to New York with our injured passengers anyway, I’m gonna pay Scott a visit. Virgil can drop me off on the way past.”
Virgil had some thoughts on that, but when John came back to them with word from the head of Tracy Industries Security that Scott was not in his apartment all argument ceased.
They reached NYC in minutes. Rain began to fall as Thunderbird Two hovered above the apartment building long enough for a zipline to be deployed, Gordon to slide down, and the cable to be retrieved. Then, with a quick flare of her rear engines the great green beast was on her way to the hospital. By the time the roar of her engines had faded Gordon was already running down the stairs, heading for the penthouse.
***
Rain was falling. A heavy downpour, pelting the pavement. Scott was aware of the sound, and the sensation of drops falling on his face, and the fact that half his face was lying in water. And pain. A great deal of pain. He breathed out and water bubbled against his lips and nostrils. He tried to move his hand, to push himself up off the ground, but searing pain lanced through his head and for a second had no sense of where up was. Then he blacked out again.
***
Inside Scott’s apartment Gordon searched for something that might tell him what had happened to his big brother. The security officer there with him was nervous and apologetic, but Gordon had no time for any of that. The other five officers that made up Scott’s night-time detail had headed out to search the immediate area, but no-one knew how long Scott had been gone so it was difficult to define how large an are they should search.
“John, I could really use some info right about now.”
“Eos has found his phone. Signal is pinging off towers in Long Island.”
“That’s nowhere near here, and Scott would have no reason to be there this late at night.” Gordon was finding it difficult to keep the looming panic out of his voice.
“Security Chief Anderson is sending TI officers out there now, and local law enforcement are looking into it as well.”
“You don’t think Scott’s there either.” It was not a question. Gordon’s mind was racing. He was missing something. A thought was trying to form somewhere in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t calm enough to give it time to voice itself.
“No,” John replied, still trying to work through what they knew and find answers too. “Anderson says they didn’t see him leave the apartment after 9pm. Eos is still screening CCTV footage, but there’s been no sign of Scott leaving or anyone else entering until we sent Anderson up here to investigate.”
“Wait, John, check the footage of for the rear of the building. I think I know why no one saw him leave.”
It had finally twigged. The thing Gordon was missing. The thing that was missing from the room, the reason Scott would leave the apartment late at night – coffee and pastry. Gordon was one of the few people who knew about Scott’s sneaky visits to the café. He exited the penthouse at a run, heading for the express elevator that would take him to the building’s parking lot and rear exit. He needed to follow Scott’s route, and he was prepared to leave no stone unturned in the search for any clue as to what had happened to Scott.
Once he was outside the rain pummelled his shoulders and began plastering his hair to his head as he hurried along the street towards the corner coffee shop. He couldn’t go too fast, scared he’d miss something as he swept his gaze from left to right, scanning every shadow, every nook and cranny. He came to the entrance of the narrow, dark ally and his squidsense became so active it almost hurt.
Entering the ally cautiously, still scanning everything in sight, Gordon found he needed more light and reached into his baldric for a glowstick, thankful he still had some left after the earlier rescue. Snapping it and holding it ahead of him to cast it’s green glow, he made his way past a couple of large, dirty dumpsters and then stopped short at the sight that greeted him. There was Scott, lying face down on the uneven ground, his face in a pothole, blood slowly oozing down the back of his neck from a nasty headwound and staining his sodden blue shirt.
Gordon forced himself to step forward through the initial paralysis of shock and hit his comm to call John as he knelt beside his brother. Fingers searching for a pulse on a wrist bereft of watch or comms with one hand while the other gently lifted Scott’s head from the puddle.
“I’ve got him, John!” There was a pulse, but Scott wasn’t breathing. “Shit, Scott! John, I’ve got a weak pulse but he’s not breathing. I’m administering CPR”
Gordon checked the airway was clear and rolled Scott onto his back to administer the necessary rescue breaths as he spoke.
“FAB.” The reply was clipped, emotionless in tone, which told Gordon exactly how John felt at that moment. “Virgil should be with you in less than two minutes.”
To Gordon’s great relief it took less than a minute for his brother to give a cough that expelled dirty water from blue-tinged lips. He rolled Scott into the recovery position and sat beside him, panting. One hand rested gently just above his brother’s hip feeling the rise and fall of the ribcage with every shallow breath, the other hand gently brushing limp, wet hair from his face. He took a moment to process the lack of jacket, and the absence of phone or wallet in the pockets of Scott’s pants. A mugging? Scott knew how to defend himself against a single attacker, this had to have been an ambush of some kind.
Gordon had questions, but for now he was just relieved his brother was breathing. His fingers gently brushed Scott’s forehead again and eyelids flickered open revealing blue eyes searching for the source of the touch. There was a shaky, deep inhale.
“Gordy?” Barely more than a croak.
“I’m here, Scott. I’ve got you.”
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101flavoursofweird · 3 years
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Fic Questionnaire
Thanks for @sixtyfourk for tagging me! I’m putting the questions under a cut because it’s quite long :’)
I’ll tag @northernscruffycat, @northelypark, @edward-elbowlick, @vermontwrites, @asa-liz, @yoshi-g-teh-first, @call-me-rucy, and @aquamarineglow but if there’s anyone else who wants to do this, please go ahead!
How many works do you have on AO3?
107… but a lot of these are just reposts or prompt-inspired fics that are 10 lines long!
What's your total AO3 word count?
378242 words
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Professor Layton, PLvsAA, Layton Brothers Mystery Room, Rhythm Thief, Voltron: Legendary Defender (I only watched the first two seasons, haha…), The Ancient Magus Bride (I was in it for the cute dragon mage— not for the main romance), Steven Universe, Ace Attorney (only as a part of PLvsAA), Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, My Hero Academia
…10 fandoms altogether, but some like PLvsAA and LBMR fall under the PL category.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Aizawa Doesn’t Give Hugs - MHA- 1111 kudos - (Why can’t I update my most popular fic?)
Fireflies - Steven Universe - 221 kudos - (Again, WHY DID I NEVER UPDATE THIS?)
Reset - PL - 134 kudos - (This is the one I feel the worst about because it’s an ongoing long fic for my main fandom and I’ve had so much support from readers but I just can’t find the strength to update it…)
Worth Fighting For - PL - 86 kudos - (My incomplete Whumptober fic!)
Mending - Voltron - 85 kudos - (I think this was one of the first fics I posted on AO3 and I was really happy about the response it got! And for a fandom I’d never written for before!)
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I usually respond to comments pretty quickly because I want to show my appreciation for people who take the time to comment :) If I’m ever slow to respond it’s probably just because I’m busy or I’m trying to formulate a long response. If a person leaves a longer comment, I try to make my response longer!
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
That’s probably ‘To Boldly Flee’. It’s a fic I originally posted on FF.net but it’s now part of an Aurora & Luke oneshot series called ‘Looking Foward’ on AO3. The fic stars Aurora and Luke in an AU set during Azran Legacy. It diverges from canon after Descole steals the Azran keystone in the Nest. Aurora doesn’t want to go to the Azran sanctuary and face her ‘duty’ as the Azran emissary— she also doesn’t want to get STABBED IN THE HEART— so she decides to run away with Luke.
Aurora receives even more angst in this AU than in canon. After Descole’s betrayal, she starts to doubt herself and her friends, aside from Luke.
With a bit of help from Rook and Bishop, the two of them fly to London and then to Misthallery when they hear Targent have taken over the town. During this time, Aurora has her identity crisis about being a golem and having the fate of the world resting on her shoulders. She eventually decides to help Luke save his hometown because Luke is worth the world to her.
This all culminates with Luke getting fatally(?) wounded and taken to the Golden Garden. Aurora is so distraught by this point that she almost ‘floods the whole world’ in a kind of failsafe doomsday device the Azran may have implanted in her. Luckily, Descole and Layton show up to assure her that Luke is alive— but just barely. Aurora returns to her normal self and they get Luke to hospital. Aurora waits by Luke’s bedside for him to wake up. Aurora mentions that Emmy’s fate is unknown, but they still mourn for her.
In the original FF.net ending, Luke wakes up.
In the AO3 ending, Aurora just keeps waiting for Luke. ‘She could not age, so she would wait until he awoke. Even if it took forever...’
If I ever did write more of this story, Aurora and Co would probably go to the other Azran sites (Ambrosia, the Infinite Vault of etc) to search for a cure for Luke. But at it is, the fic is left open-ended as to whether Luke ever recovers.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Not really hate but there was one anon review that may have been ‘too brutal’ (their words). I can’t say it hasn’t affected the updates on that particular fic.
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I wrote a couple of light smut fics back when I really shipped Layton/Emmy. I think I’d cringe if I went back to read those fics (but then again, I do that with a lot of my old writing). I can’t see myself writing smut now.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I can’t say I’ve had a fic stolen, but I was reading a fic a while ago and the wording was veeery familiar. I’m not sure why because the fic was already good up to that point? Why would they bother copying my writing? XD I can’t complain, though! We’re all technically stealing the original creator’s characters and concepts by writing fanfic.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes, for my Rhythm Thief AU, Déjà Vergier! In this AU, 16-year-old Raphael gets taken in by the Vergier family. A Deviantart user called BakApple kindly translated my writing into French. With the help of Google Trabslate, I started translating their French Rhythm Thief fic— ‘July the Fourteenth’— into English, but I didn’t get around to finishing it. My translating skills are nowhere near as good as BakApple’s!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I wrote a PL fic with called ‘If You Only Had Time’ with an awesome writer called Glowbug. It’s an AU (of course) where Rachel Bronev survives and she runs away from Targent with eight-year-old Emmy. Glowbug doesn’t seem to be active online anymore, which is a shame, but I don’t mind! I’m just glad we were able to write 6 chapters.
I don’t think I’d co-write any more fics now… but more for the co-writer’s sake than mine! I’m notoriously bad at updating long fics and I struggle to write under pressure or within a time limit. There’s a reason why I don’t enter Big Bang events, as much as I’d like too :’)
Writing fics is a hobby first and foremost. If I don’t feel like writing something, I’ll leave it and come back later, hopefully with renewed inspiration.
But I’m always happy to discuss fic outlines/ideas/characters’ with other people!
What's your all time favorite ship?
Apparently the ship I’ve written the most fics for is Janice/Melina on AO3?
There seems to be more content for them recently and that makes me SO HAPPY.
Ranhengela might be a close second favourite… Sometimes I literally forget both of these ships aren’t canon.
My favourite characters tend to be those who are so selfless and would sacrifice their lives for the ones they love— e.g. Janice and Henry— even if their significant other is presumed to be dead. I want these characters to be happy but I also want them to through ANGST.
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
I don’t want to say Reset… but maybe Reset? I haven’t given up completely but I’ve lost a lot of confidence with this fic. What I wanted most out of this story was for Luke to bond with other characters aside from Layton— his parents, Arianna, Emmy, Flora etc.— and to give these characters a chance to shine. But I guess I realised I can do this without all the crazy plot twists and time travel mechanics… like in Ready Now, for example. Most of that fic is just Arianna bonding with Luke, Layton and the others, and it’s hopefully giving Flora her chance to shine too! I guess after giving Arianna her own chapter in Reset I just really wanted to write about her, haha.
What are your writing strengths?
Someone mentioned in a nice review that I often fuse canon with fanon? That’s usually just me poking fun at the series— like when Arianna’s mother asks about Flora’s age and her adoption status, Arianna and Tony just shrug at her comedically. Who knows, really? :’)
I’ll often just make two character sit in a room TALK about their feelings.
Dialogue is an easy one, but I like writing dialogue for characters and getting their voices down. (I will forever portray Dalston with his official Yorkshire accent— not the fake posh accent they gave him the the US version of Miracle Mask.)
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I think it’s cool! …If it’s not used to mock another language— apart from English. Please make all the English jokes you want. I’ll probably agree with you and laugh at them.
I remember when I was re-reading Goblet of Fire and I cringed every time J. K. Rowling wrote about a character who wasn’t English.
I’ll occasionally throw French words or sayings into Rhythm Thief fics especially because that’s what they do in the game. It’s hilarious how Charlie has an English accent but then she’ll sprout a random French phrase.
What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?
Pokemon, but that short oneshot is long gone.
What's your favorite fic you've ever written?
I’m going to be boring and say Bonds Left Unbroken— an AU where Layton and Desmond both get adopted by the Laytons. I think I enjoyed the earlier chapters more, focussing on younger Desmond and Hershel, and especially their time in Stansbury. The later chapters don’t really branch out from canon that much, aside from the fact that Hershel and Desmond are on the same page during Azran Legacy.
I feel bad that I never got around to finishing the ‘bonus’ episodes, but it kind of just felt like the original series with Desmond phoned in :’) But I’m still proud of the original fic!
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ailec-12 · 3 years
Note
Ahhhhhhh congrats to reaching 100!!! It‘s super deserved! Could I request something for House Potter, please? Like, maybe something with Sev and Sirius along the lines of hurt/comfort? But no pressure, if that is too much or would be too fast-forward into the story! :) thanks!!
Thank you so much, Anon, you're so sweet! I'm sorry you've had to wait so long to see this prompt done —I hope you'll actually see it!—, especially since it was the first one I started to write back in October. I just got a little stuck with it halfway through, but I loved it and hope you'll enjoy it, too.
I decided to take today off to rest and, though I know I probably shouldn't have, I couldn't help sitting down and finally finishing this prompt. I don't have the energy to edit it, but I wanted to post it anyway.
So, this is set in the future, but let's imagine Sev and Sirius have made no progress whatsoever in the meantime. Also, the Potters have either moved out or gone on holiday.
Also on AO3.
No Harm Done
He told himself, as he took James’s broom without breathing a word of it to anyone, that it was okay. James did let him have it, so it was none of Sirius’s business what Severus did with it. A voice in his head begged to differ, but he ignored it and ploughed on.
He was nervous and excited, although, in all honesty, it was hard to distinguish one feeling from the other. After all, the clench in his stomach and the tingling in his fingers seemed to fit well together. It was the first time he would be flying alone and his mouth had become completely dry long before he had sneaked out the broom. Still, he had no doubts about wanting to carry on with his plan and Sirius, who had come to watch over them and was currently sleeping on the sofa with Harry, did not ever need to know.
The day was clear, if a little windy. Severus mounted and kicked the ground once, firmly. The broom took off at once and he gripped the handle tightly before relaxing his grip ever so slightly.
Flying felt great, exhilarating. Any fears he may have harboured stayed well below him.
He was not confident enough yet to try some of the stunts that James performed as easily as breathing. However, he enjoying riding higher than any of the adults would likely have allowed as well as going round and round in progressively smaller circles. He was enjoying himself so much that, when he started to descend, he miscalculated the higher speed he had achieved. When he saw the ground come closer far too fast, he pulled up the handle abruptly and the broom responded with a sharp jump. Startled, Severus saw his own fall in slow motion: the way his hands failed to regain hold of the wood, how his body flew a bit higher than the broom and how the ground greeting him face first. The world around him went deadly silent.
The impact left no air in his lungs. He tried to take a breath and succeeded after a few desperate attempts. The pain came afterwards. Gingerly, he sat up to examine the damage. Although the grass had surely softened his fall, one of his arms hurt from the wrist to the elbow. His jumper was covered with green stains, as were his jeans. Luckily, he had not ripped anything off, but his knees hurt when he stood up.
All these thoughts were forgotten once he spotted the broom. James’s racing broom, the once he had used for matches at Hogwarts. Severus’s blood ran cold. If he had broken the damn thing…
His hands were shaking uncontrollably when he took it, but his heart began to beat again as he observed no major damage. There were some sticks that stuck out of place and a few scratches on the handle that would not look amiss in a well-worn broom —that is, if James did not keep his in prime condition. He was bound to notice, Severus knew, fearing the moment. He might be lucky enough that James may just think he forgot to fix it before putting it away the last time he rode it. Severus was aware that he was not half bad at lying and, although it left a bitter taste on his tongue sometimes, he was too much of a coward to take the blame if he could avoid it.
And yet, his thoughts were useless, for he never had the chance to do any of it. Halfway through the house, the back door slammed open and revealed Sirius, thus freezing Severus on the spot.
“Where the—” Sirius started to yell. Then, he saw Severus and strode in his direction. The boy gripped the broom, but did not move. “What the fuck, Snape? You were flying?”
His hands were trembling again as he offered the broom. He had been caught, so there was nothing to do but manage the damage.
“I didn’t break it, it’s fine,” he said mulishly, as if that could cover up the fact that he was unable to look up, instead keeping his eyes focused on Sirius’s tight fists.
“What the hell happened to you, though? Did you roll down a hill? Wait, did you fall while you were flying?” Sirius did not snatch the broom while berating him, as Severus had expected. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”
His tone became strangely flat when delivering the last sentence and the boy was unsure how he should interpret it. What could Sirius plan to do with that information?
“I’m fine,” he snapped, just in case.
Sirius’s fists relaxed a little.
“Really? So blood just comes out of your knee on occasion?”
His black eyes snapped down and he saw a darker stain than the ones from grass and dirt. His cheeks became warmer and he faced Sirius’s smirk, offering a scowl of his own.
“I’m fine. May I go to clean up?”
His heart was beating very fast. What if Sirius said ‘no’? Severus did not understand why that was so frightening. The most the man could do was not let him get out of his dirty clothes, maybe force him to stand in a corner all day until Lily and James got home past his bedtime. Sirius could not hurt him, they would not allow it —they had promised. And yet, Severus waited with bated breath for the answer.
“Let me check first. I don’t need anyone come down on me ‘cause I neglected you.”
For some reason, that did it. Severus dropped the broom and made a dash for the door that led inside the house. ‘Stupid,’ he would think a second later, when he realised he should have run in the opposite direction, even if the open field did not feel any safer when the other was a grown wizard with a wand.
Before he was aware of what was happening, there was something encircling his waist and trapping him.
“L– Let me go!” He could not help the way his voice sounded high pitched and scared. He did not want anyone to know he was scared.
He hit Sirius’s arm and tried to kick him, too. He struggled for a while and did not stop to see whether he was doing any real damage. He felt numb and detached and maybe fear was still there despite his best efforts.
“Ow, ow! Snape, stop! Bollocks, you twat, I was j– Okay, that’s it!”
And then, the ground under his feet disappeared. He may have let out a pathetic shrill until he got hold of himself, shut his eyes very tightly and kept still. His breathes were the only sound for a short second. Then, a likely livid Sirius carried him inside the house, stomping all the while. He took him to the living room and put him down in front of the couch. Nearby, Harry was playing with his moving animal toys.
“Sit down,” Sirius growled and Severus obeyed.
At the same time, Harry stumbled over them and demanded,
“Sev, play!”
The older boy only shook his head, leaving Sirius to explain just in how much trouble he was at the moment.
“Harry, I’ve got an important mission for you,” Sirius said, solemnly but still warmer than he ever addressed Severus. The toddler looked up. “You watch that Snape stays put till I come back, all right?”
Harry nodded, reciprocating the solemnity, and turning back around, repeated his request to play together. Severus refused in silence, letting his hair fall on his face and focusing on not letting fall the tears that had started to gather in his eyes.
He had mucked it up really badly that time. He had panicked and attacked an adult —a man that James considered his own brother. The world was a blur and his ragged breaths flooded his ears.
“Snape.”
An impatient voice broke his train of thought. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps hours. He looked up and saw a very irritated Sirius holding up a familiar blue bottle in one hand and his wand in another.
“Calmer now, aren’t you?” the man huffed. “Roll up your trouser leg, let me see what we’re dealing with.”
Severus shook his head vehemently. He did not understand what was going on, but his eyes were still fixed on the wand. His breathing was still making that horrible sound.
“Hurt?” pipped up Harry somewhere next to him.
“Yeah, mate, Snape’s hurt and too ruddy stubborn to let me help.”
Help? What did Sirius understand for help when it came down to a brat like him?
“No ‘Nape, Sev!” Harry corrected all of a sudden, drawing Severus’s attention to the pair.
There was a small chubby finger pointed at him and, when he looked at Sirius —his face, not his wand—, the man had a bemused expression.
“Right,” he said after a moment, turning his terrible grey eyes towards Severus. “Well, Sev, will you please roll up your trouser leg so I can heal your knee?”
Sirius dragged the short nickname with all the smugness he was able to muster and the boy found he did not like it any better than hearing his surname.
“I’m fine,” he tried once again, but his voice sounded small and frightened as his anger failed to rise.
Sirius let out a weary sigh and handed him the blue bottle. After looking between the children, he decided to put his wand between his teeth. Then, with no hurry, he proceeded to pull up Severus’s damaged trousers himself.
The bottle trembled in his grasp. The boy bit his lip and tightened his fingers around it. Staying still was his only task now.
Sirius was excruciatingly slow until he finally revealed the cut on his knee. It had stopped bleeding and clearly did not merit so much care, but there was no comment on it or the mess it had made. In fact, for once, Sirius forwent his habitual cutting remarks and kept mostly quiet, only speaking to assure Harry that everything was okay.
Severus was pretty sure he stopped breathing when the wand came near him. Yet, he did not move. He felt something warm and, when he looked down, the cut had disappeared. A cold feeling ensued as Sirius washed the dry blood away with a cloth under Severus’s fascinated gaze. The bottle was taken from his hands as Sirius began to apply it on his knee, even though the bruise had not appeared yet.
Next, the man rolled up his other trouser leg.
“Does it hurt here, too?”
Severus was about to shake his head again, but Sirius was staring at him intently and the boy knew his lie would be caught.
“Just a little,” he mumbled, looking back down.
Some balm was applied on that area as well without another word. Severus pondered whether he could ask for some for his wrist and elbow, but Sirius proceeded to examine his arms himself. The boy could not help a sharp intake of breath when Sirius took hold of his wrist.
“This has swollen.”
“It’s not broken,” Severus hurried to assure.
Sirius frowned at him, although he did not look angry.
“No, it’s not, but let me…”
And he moved his wand in a different pattern until both the redness and swelling had faded away. Still, he applied some balm there and on his elbow. Severus had no idea whether he should be more surprised that Sirius was healing him or that he apparently knew where to look for injuries.
At long last, they were done and Sirius obliged Harry by sitting him on his lap. A dense silence settled between him and Severus, who tried to still his fingers by burying them in the hem of his jumper. Eventually, the boy was the one to break the quiet.
“The broom…” he started, peeking at the open door, in the direction where the magical object remained lying on the grass.
“Accio Prongs’s broom.”
Harry was very excited to see his father’s broom flying towards them and Sirius let him grab the end of the handle while he examined it. Severus could not relax completely, but at least the man’s face was not giving him any more reason to panic.
“We’ve all fallen on our arses while riding; more than once, actually,” Sirius remarked, almost offhandedly. Then, he looked up, straight into Severus’s black eyes. “There’s no harm done, so I suppose no one needs to know… as long as you’re careful next time and let someone know before flying off.”
The unexpected reprieve from Sirius of all people took a moment to register in Severus’s brain. He hurried to wipe the shock off his face and nodded with all his might.
“I will, I swear!”
The man looked at him for a bit longer, until he turned to his godson with a big smirk.
“Harry, you up for beating Severus at Exploding Snap?”
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otomeramblings · 4 years
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Moments when he realizes he loves you: Omi
Pairing: Omi x Reader
Pronouns: written in 2nd person; remains gender neutral
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From Omi's general demeanor, I think we can all agree that he's more of a giver than a taker in all of his relationships, so it isn't surprising that such behavior would also be reflected once he is in a romantic relationship. He has a very nurturing nature, so he loves it when you rely on him because it lets him know that you trust him with your troubles. Whenever you go to him when you need help (no matter how trivial the situation might be), his chest puffs out with pride at the fact that you see him as someone dependable. Before you started dating, the first time you confided in him and let yourself cry in front of him it broke his heart in such a way that it made him realize how much he had begun to care for your happiness and well-being.
Since he dropped his old life as the “mad wolf”, Omi has really come to appreciate habits in his everyday life, he likes the security and the simple contentment that come with them. Because of this, he gets great satisfaction from going shopping together with you, grocery shopping in particular. He enjoyed it when he lived at the dorms, when you accompanied him during his trips to the store to get enough supplies to feed over 20 people. But if you were to ask him, your first trip to the store after you had moved in together was the particular instance that came to mind. You had been working around tirelessly and had decided to make a run to the store to get food to prepare your first dinner in your new apartment once the sun had started to set and your stomachs had started rumbling. The store was within walking distance but you didn’t account for the rain that started pouring down when you were halfway there; you had to rush to get there but you couldn’t avoid getting drenched even after Omi had tried to cover you with his jacket. So there you where, deciding if you wanted to be healthy and buy fruit for dessert or if you’d say, fuck it, we should go big and buy cupackes to celebrate. And he couldn’t help the fond smile that adorned his features while looking at you, you with your hair matted and sticking to your face and half drowning in his jacket, because if that moment was (hopefully) was an example of something that he’d get to experience for the rest of his life, then he couldn’t thank his lucky stars enough.
Now, as I said, he’s a very giving person. But that doesn’t mean he’s not thankful when you turn the tables on him.
Omi doesn’t get sick very often, but when he does, it usually leaves him out of commission for a couple of days. He’s the type to say that he’s fine because he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him. That said, he can’t deny that there’s something incredibly endearing about seeing you fussing over him when he gets like this. at the beginning stages of your relationship he used to feel a bit guilty about monopolizing your time and attention, but after you continued to reassure him that you wanted to care for him, he started to see things from a different perspective. Now that he pushes that guilt aside, he can’t deny the warmth that spreads through his chest whenever you bring him food and water and try to help him drink and eat, or when you take his temperature or run your fingers through his hair with touches so gentle that you’d think he was made of delicate glass.
Another thing that makes omi feel as if he were walking on cloud nine is seeing you get along with his family. He remembers one specific occasion when you two had scheduled to have dinner with them and since you were working and he had rehearsal with his troupe, you both had agreed to meet up outside the house. What he didn’t factor in was the fact that rehearsals would end up running late. In the end, you had to meet up with his family without him for an hour and half. He rushed out on his bike as soon as they wrapped things up since he didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you. But once he arrives, he realizes he didn’t have anything to worry about. You’re finishing setting the table with his father while his younger brothers talked to you excitedly about something. You then reached out to ruffle the hair of his youngest brother and you all stuck out your tongues playfully at each other. He had paused on the doorway and his father was the first to take notice of him and ushered him into the room. Giving him a pat on the back, his father had whispered in his ear “you better not let them slip away, they’re a keeper.” Looking at your bright smile while his brothers dragged you to the main room to show you something, the only thing he could muster up was a soft “I know”
Now listen to me. We all know that Omi has many regrets about his past and that he doesn’t like to talk about it much. After he opened up to you, he’s honestly worried that you would look at him differently; he wouldn’t blame you, but it would still hurt. You don’t let this revelation change anything, of course, and he’s always grateful to have found someone who accepts him so wholeheartedly. In relation to this, there’s one thing in particular that never fails to make him melt: whenever you kiss the scar on his chin. You used to do it before he told you how he got it, but you doing it with this new knowledge always gets to him because it’s your way of sending a message, a message that says that you love him for who he is, every part of him, even those parts that he doesn’t love himself. The first time you did it right after he told you, you were laying down together, with his head on your chest while he tried to calm his racing heart after waking up from a nightmare; and you had grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles, the skin rough after all those years of fighting. Then you proceeded to place kisses over his face: on his forehead, on his eyelids, on both of his cheeks and finally on his scar, and each of them felt both as light as a feather and as warm as your love for him. His last thought before falling asleep, as he buried his face on the crook of your neck and as he listened to the calming sound of your heartbeat, is how he had never felt as safe as he did that moment in your embrace.
On a similar angsty note: let’s talk about Nachi, shall we? when he opened up to you about his past, he also told you about his friend and what had happened to him. what he didn’t tell you, though, was that he had started to tell Nachi about you as well. Periodically, Omi likes to leave new flowers in Nachi’s grave and to just update him about what’s been happening in his life. It was during one of those visits that Omi told him about you, about the time you spend together, pointing out various things he liked about you, and only when he quieted down, and the only sound around him was that of the rustling leaves being moved by the slight breeze, was that he realized that he was smiling from ear to ear and the only thoughts occupying his mind were how much Nachi would have loved to tease him for sounding like a love-struck puppy and how he wished you two would have had the chance to meet. And after some time, you do get to meet Nachi. Once Omi feels ready to introduce you, he takes you to the cemetery to finally meet his best friend. you’re nervous, of course, but following Omi’s lead, it doesn’t take you long to warm up and start talking to Nachi on your own. You talk about yourself, and you talk about Omi, about how kind and strong he’s become, about how happy he makes you and about how happy you hope to make him in turn. At that, Omi slips an arm around your waist and kisses the top of head, a few tears escaping from the corners of his eyes, and he breathes out “you already do.” The sound is faint and slightly choked up, but it sounds loud and clear in your ears, and the only thing you both hope is that it sounds that way for Nachi, too.
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Note: It’s 3am and I can’t believe Omi took over my brain in such a way. But yeah, anyway, I’m thinking of maybe writing something like this for other characters and I can’t promise it will be soon since I write when inspiration strikes but if you want any character in particular, my askbox is open
Edit: re-posting this to see if it will actually show up on the tags this time -.-
107 notes · View notes
alwaysonthemend · 4 years
Text
Destiel Fic Recs (An extensive rec list of almost every single Destiel fic I‘ve ever read.)
NOTE
- This is a masterlist of all of my fic recs. They include AUs, SPN universe, codas, ficlets, schoolfics, and more!
- Works marked with (*) denote my absolute favorites.  
-This rec list is all Destiel (I'm a clown 🤡, sue me.) If you don’t like it, don’t read it. 
-Yes, many of these works are NSFW, but usually said scenes can be skipped without losing important plot info.
-This list will be updated whenever I find a good fic, though probably not regularly if I'm honest. (Life happens...)
-I DO NOT own any of the work found on this list, nor do I claim it to be my own; I am simply making this so that others can enjoy these fics as well.
-Please do not hate on anyone or anything. If you don't like Destiel, then don't read the fics. If you hate the author, don't tell me because I don't care about that drama. (Walk AwaaAYyaYAaa)
1. Twist and Shout****** by @gabriel and @standbyme Archive Of Our Own.
Thoughts- I'm sure that there is nothing I can say that you haven't already heard. Just read it. Suffer along with the rest of us. There's fluff, smut, angst (the holy trinity.) This is truly the best fan fic ever written. Period. 20/10.
2. 300 Things by @cautionzombies. (I can't find the original source so you'll have to try and find it on your own...)  
Thoughts- What's a Supernatural rec list without 300 Things? This really is an amazing fic and it is written so well!  
3. How A Righteous Man Raises A Rose by @swordofmymouth- Live Journal.  
Thoughts- This fic really took me by surprise. It's tagged as an AU, but I think you'll find that it's not at all what you think. The author effortlessly sets a mood of loss and regret, yet still gives the light a chance to shine through. I went into this fic thinking it to be an AU, and it was at first. But I soon realized that there was much more to this fic than what at first meets the eye. I shed a few tears over this one.
4. Cleanse the Mirror* by @takadainmate -Live Journal.  
Thoughts- Man, this one hurts, but in the best way. I read this fic a long time ago but lost it and couldn't find it for a long time. I am so glad that I found it and was able to re read. Just as enjoyable (if not more so) the second time. Dean gets a better understanding of what it's like being an angel. (And Cas is written so well in this fic! He's just like he is in the show. It's incredible!)  
5. A Hole in the World by @bauble - Live Journal.
Thoughts- This one just hurts and hurts and hurts. This is one that you'll just have to read and see for yourself. No happy ending. (You've been warned.)  
6. In the Shadow of Your Wings by @EnochianThings - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is a really well written fic. There were several times that I almost forgot that I was reading a fan fic because the characters and story are just so well though out. It's a bit of a long one and is set in a (sort of) canon!verse.
7. My Throat is An Open Grave* by @inkandpaperqwerty - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This was one of the first fan fics that I ever read for Supernatural. This one is just so heartwarming, but not before plenty of angst and hurt/comfort. The author seamlessly puts Sam and Dean into a heartbreaking AU and it's all about the love that Sam and Dean have for each other. (NOT Wincest.)  
8. Thursday's Child* by @strangeandcharm - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- All I can say is... Ow. Slow burn to end all slow burns, but so worth it in the end. This one is set in the End!verse (which I'm a total sucker for.) Dean and Cas are just so sad and I just want to hug them and make it all better. Imagine, Future!Dean's plan to kill Lucifer!Sam works and now he has to live with the fact that he killed his own brother, devil or not. And Cas has to come to terms with the fact that he survived the epic showdown, despite his belief that he wouldn't, and now has an addiction that he has to get under control. I love this fic and it really is a painfully slow read, but more than worth it in the end.  
9. Après by @imogenbynight - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Dean and Cas go to Paris... Need I say more? I love this fic because it addresses the crappy way that Dean always has Cas coming to him and how Dean needs to step up and realize the sacrifices Cas has made for him (shameless bias opinion... Sorry) All us Cas stans will really appreciate this one. Written well, characterization flawless... What else can you ask for?
10. Dean's Days Off* by @MittenWraith - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is just the sweetest, fluffiest fic you could ever ask for. Reading it made me want to fall in love so badly it hurt. Cas and Dean just get some well deserved rest and quiet. I am absolutely in love with this fic and I'll read it over and over again. (Especially if I've had a bad day and need some happiness)
11. Unlit, Unmarked, and Forgotten by @awed_frog -
Archive Of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is a beautiful coda for 11x17. There's some Destiel if you squint. It's very sad but somehow manages a happy ending that renews your hope and brings a soft smile to your face.
12. Down Like Water by @museaway - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- I really like this fic a lot. It is very sad with a lot of Hurt!Castiel but it does actually have a happy ending. Just grit your teeth and bare through the angst and sadness to make it to the beautifully sappy ending.
13. Till Kingdom Come* by @freckles_n_feathers - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - This is a season 11 AU that was written before season 11 aired (the author actually somehow predicted things that were going to happen before they aired!!) This fic gave me really high hopes for season 11 that weren't quite fulfilled. I loved season 11, don't get me wrong (it's actually one of my favorite seasons) this fic was just so perfect and I wanted it to be canon so badly. (I re wrote this review like four times because I kept saying "actually" lol)  
14. 12x19 Destiel Ficlet by @Samanstiel - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - This was written before 12x19 aired, and if you were upset with how things went down then this is the fic for you. The characters are written so well and it really feels like an actual episode.
15. Contrapasso*** by @takadainmate - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This might be the best fic ever (trumped only by Twist and Shout...) Inspired by Dantes Inferno and so beautifully written! I just... There aren't words. It's very dark, and the ending was not at all what I wanted (but after much thought, I realized that there couldn't have been a better ending.) I really got lost in this fic. I could see exactly what the author described, I could feel what the characters felt. This is true art... This is the fic we've all been looking for.
16. Put Up Your Dukes by @takadainmate - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This fic is by one of my favorite authors (who has featured on this rec list before...) Hilariously dirty. Dean and Cas are bone heads who can't make up there minds. Human!Cas is also a little sh*t and I'm living for it. There's some smutty times in this one... (which can easily be skipped if you're not comfortable without losing any important points of the story. {at least I didn't feel like I missed anything})
17. Then I Defy You Stars* by @speary - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - So many tears were shed while I read this. The plot is just so amazing and a plot twist to end all plot twists at the end. It's full of sacrifice and love and angst and bittersweet moments. I love this fic (and I promise you will too.)
18. All the Nights by @NorthernSparrow - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This takes place after 15x03 episode "Golden Time". A bit of a fix it fic, but canon compliant to a point. I really love this fic (I love anything written by NorthernSparrow). Also a case!fic, which I'm always a softie for. Some big questions that I have since season 15 are addressed in this fic, and I absolutely love the way they are answered.
19. A Winter's Tale* by @NorthernSparrow - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Oh my gosh. So much Hurt!Castiel. There isn't outright Destiel but there is heavy DeanCas relations. This is a season 9 re write and it just hurts so much. If you can make it through all the pain, the happy ending makes it all worth it. Human!Cas just deserves so much better... Ahh! It's just so sad and perfect and awesome.
20. Give All My Secrets Away by @morganoconner - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - This is a sweet little fic. Not particularly long, but oh so meaningful. Dean gets cursed and his soul is pushed from his body, leaving him vulnerable and scared (the author portrays the human soul in a very interesting way). Cas looks after him and it's just so fluffy.
21. Plot Holes* by @saltyfeathers - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Holy crap! This fic took me a whole week to finish and I enjoyed every minute of it! Every chance I got I would pull my phone out and read. I was rudely interrupted many many times so I just decided to finish it at night and stayed up until 2AM on a school night. (oops?) It's soooo well written and feels like an actual season of Supernatural. 12/10 all the way.
22. Someone Who's Feeling For Me by @ellispark - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: Here's a fic to kick you right in the feels. I actually really genuinely enjoyed reading this fic because of how well the characters are written! Dean, Sam, and Cas run into Lisa Braeden post her mind wipe in season 6 and it brings up a whole bunch of drama for our boys. (While also helping Dean realize that she was never really the person he wanted to be with 😉) A bit of light smut and a bit of angst but definitely worth a read.  
23. Chalk and Chainmail by @angelwingsandthings - Wattpad.
Thoughts : Oh this one is so good... It's very angsty at times and Dean is a lovable dork who can't win no matter what he does and Cas is just a confused little assbutt who doesn't know what to do with himself. (So he's himself if we're being perfectly honest here 😂) There's some light smut but nothing too graphic. This one is a Highschool!AU, so prepare yourself for the delightful drama that comes along with teenage hormones. (And Charlie is a total QUEEN and I'm living for it. I love her so much.)
24. Remember When * by @VioletHaze - Archive of Our Own
Thoughts: Sooo... I've been on a bit of a School!fic kick recently. (Not a little bit. Like a lot a bit thb) This one is just so god da*n perfect (scuse my French) Dean and Cas have been best friends since fifth grade; they do everything together. Then some crap happens and they get in a huge fight junior year. Years later, they finally make it back to each other. (*Cries in fangirl*) Warning, it's sad, it hurts like heck. But there's also so many perfect moments. I promise you won't regret reading it. (And once again Charlie is a total queen and I would give my life for her. She deserves so much better... {SPN writers I'm looking at you.})
25. Everytown, USA by @aileenrose - Archive Of Our Own.
Thoughts : I've seen this fic on tons of recs but never really thought much of it. But I kept seeing it so I decided to give it a read and boy was it worth it! This is just a great fic that has plenty of fluff (And angst... Because what's a Destiel fic without sadness and pain?) Cas is a lot different from his character in the show but somehow the exact same? He's Cas, but it's like he's what Cas would have been like if he had grown up human. I just love him so much in this fic (and I want to give him a hug too... 😢)
26. I Through My Window by @dehavilland - Live Journal.
Thoughts: I've seen this fic on several recs and I finally got around to reading it myself. Some ample Destiel angst to hit you right in the feels. But I love this fic because it is incredibly motivating! Post season 5 canon-divergent and Castiel is permanently rendered human. Dean is a ginormous penis head and leaves Cas to fend for himself. Cas pines after him for a while before realizing that he doesn't need Dean to live his life. Cas stans will love this one. I just gotta include a quote because it's just beautiful. "No, I don't need you. But I want you."  
27. A Light for My Path* by @domesticadventures - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts : Oh my goodness. This fic is just... *chefs kiss* Told from the perspective of Cas' Continental. (A.K.A "Connie") Dean and Cas are having a difficult time figuring out who they want to be after the end of the last The-End-Of-Times-We're-All-Gonna-Die, but they figure it out together. There are plenty of Impala!pov fics (and even an actual episode), but I don't think I've ever come across one from Connie's perspective. Definitely worth a read.
28. Named* by @RC_McLachlan - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts : Hooo boy. This fic.... This is a complete season five re write and I LOVE IT. It's pretty angsty, but it also has some funny times thrown in. Dean is a sassy girl the whole time and I love him so much. And the plot twist at the end literally blew my mind. (brains splattered on the ceiling and everything.) 12/10.
29. And Even In The Quiet Night by @KelpietheThundergod - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: Okay, this one is pretty sad. Not full on angst, but more fluffy sad. (If that makes sense...) Dean wants to celebrate Christmas but no one else seems interested. I just want to wrap Dean in a blanket and sing Hey Jude until he feels better! But don't worry, an absolute beautifully written cliche and sappy ending will make up for it.
30. Just More of the Same (*??) by @outpastthemoat - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts : There really aren't words to describe this series. It's just so fricken bleak but beautiful at the same time. I really don't know how to describe it. Read it, the only regret is that it ends. I honestly hated how it ended, so unfullfilling. But, that's life sometimes, and I think that's the whole point of the series. I don't know if I love it or hate it but there's no denying that it is absolutely beautifully written. 12/10
31. the cost of a thing**by @quiettewandering - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: Hooo boy! This is a great fic! Fake marriage? Check. Slow burn? Check. Case!fic? Check. Fluff and angst? Check. This fic has it all. This fic kicked me right in the feels. My gosh, beautifully written and the characterization is FLAWLESS. But trust me, bring tissues as you watch Dean and Cas, slowly, painfully, but surely heal the trust that was shattered between them. This is an AU for season 8 in which Dean was the one who undertook the trials, not Sam. Dean is dying and there's nothing Sam and Cas can do to stop him, especially since Dean is insistent on just giving up and accepting his fate. Cas can save Dean's life, but at what cost? Surely a terrible one... Angst insues. 10/10.  
32. I'll Dig a Hole and Pull You Through by @JoCarthage - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: If yall hated the DeanCas interaction in season six (didn't we all...?) then this is the fixit!fic for you. In this fic, Dean helps Cas defeat Raphael. And boy, there's some flangst. (Also Dom!Cas is a thing 😏)
33. Stitches by @Askance - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: I wouldn't exactly call this a fixit!fic, buuut it is a sort of fixit for season 7. (Except Cas gets hurt, which I hate. {So does Dean...}) Cas survives the Laviathan taking over his vessal but is rendered blind. Sam and Dean have to take care of him. Loads of whump and hurt/comfort. Definitely shed a tear or two (or twenty.)
34. The Way Out* by @awed_frog - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: *fangirl noises*. I hate to say this, but OMG! This fic blew my frickin mind! The time line is very confusing and the author gives you a way to read it in chronological order, but it's worth it to read the way it was published. Everything starts making sense around the third to last chapter and it is glorious (-ly sad and angsty.) But there is a happy ending and it's soooo worth it. First timetravel!fic I've ever read and it did not disappoint.
35. What is Hidden, What is Seen* by @ExpatGirl.
Thoughts : Wow! This is a pretty long fic but so worth it. The author joked several times about the fact that the fic is longer than her Masters thesis. This is a complete season 11 re write and I LOVE it. It's got some beautifully written OCs, Crowley, Rowena, and a certain someone who needs to come back canonically. (Again, looking at you Spn writers...) This is just written so well and the author was able to put in small Easter eggs the whole way through just like any real season would. Some light smut but nothing too graphic, angst (Hello, my name is angst but you can call me Destiel.) There's even some humour in here too! All in all, an absolutely beautifully written fic.
36. And This, Your Living Kiss*** by @opal_bullets - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts: Okay, first off, insert fangirl screams here! I LOVED this fic. (And not just because I'm a clown {which I totally am} but for some personal reasons I'll elaborate on in a sec...) This is an amazingly written, thought-provoking, and heartwarming fic to read. I loved it especially as it featured poet!Dean which I don't find a lot of. Now, I particularly liked this fic because it really hit home for me. The author described exactly how I feel when it comes to poetry. They described how poets often write best in times of sadness and misery and how we often stop writing because we are destroying ourselves in our own heads and can find nothing to write about when we finally allow ourselves to be happy. The author puts it perfectly in this fic. Not only did the fic make me rethink some of the opinions that I've had on poetry writing for years, but it also inspired me to pick up my pen again after not writing for almost a year and a half. So, thank you to the author for getting me back into writing poetry. (I can't thank you enough! ❤️) Please read this fic yall!  
37. What We Remember by @Tiro - Fanfic.net
Thoughts : (Not Destiel btw) Oh my Chuck. This is soooo sad. Some nice emotionallyscarred!Dean for ya. It starts out so unassuming too! Totally blindsided me with the angst. But also some brotherly love between Sam and Dean. Definitely worth a read. (P. S, I'm writing this from the floor of my room while I sob in fangirl.)
38. More or Less by @schmerzerling - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Oh my goodness this is such a great fic. Lots of emotional angst and trauma (Just the way I like it.) This fic is so amazing and I loved every minute of it. There are so few stutter!Dean fics out there. This fic is unfinished and hasn't been updated since 2016 but I think it is still worth a read. The point at which the fic is left off has no immediate cliff hangers so I think that the fic can still be appreciated as is. Definitely worth a read.
39. Every Part of the Animal (*?) by @Askance and @Komodobits - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - I hate this fic. I hate how dam* near perfectly written it is. I hate it for the hours I spent crying. I hate it for the hope it gave me before ripping it away like it was a game. This fic was recommended to me on a group chat. I was warned. I was warned that it was a terrifying, horrific, and heartbreaking fic. What did I do?? I read it anyway. (Shocker, I know...) This fic is genuinely terrifying. It's horrific and I have to say, READ THE THE TAGS. Beautifully written, as to be expected by the authors. (Both of whom have featured on this list before.) This is a case fic gone horribly, horrifically, disgustingly wrong. 10/10 would recommend, but be warned: there is NOT a happy ending.
40. Hautley's Bend **** by @ColdInTheStudio - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Okay! So, first of, if you aren't into long fics this is absolutely NOT the fic for you. A whopping 42 chapters, all masterfully written without a flaw or typo in sight. I LOVE this fic with all my heart. I mean, I'm an absolute clown when it comes to Highschool!AUs, but this fic is just... *chef's kiss. * This is the Highschool!fic you have all been wanting. It's got angst, it's got fluff, emotional trauma, not to mention some fan favourite characters. (Gabriel, Charlie, and Kevin to name just a few.) But you should check out the tags before reading as there's some heavy stuff dealt with in this fic: Dean is not a very nice person at the beginning of this fic. There's also underage drinking and detailed substance abuse. Self harm is also pretty prominent in this fic as well as some A+ John Winchester parenting. But the pain is so, so worth it. Bring tissues!
41. Stay With Me, Sweetheart by @MandalaRose - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - The fluff is too much! I mean, we got firefighter!Dean saving Cas' life! (For Chuck's sake...What more could you ask for?) Also some single father Cas caring for a baby Clair, so some cute daddy!Cas for your troubles. So sweet and heartwarming and a very happy ending. 10/10.
42. Season Z*** by @Castielslostwings, @CR Noble, @cutelittlekitty, @EllenOfOz, @fangirlingtodeath513, @heylittleangel, @jscribbles, @MalMuses, and @son_of_a_bitch_spn_family - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts - So you might notice that there are LOTS of authors listed above and they all came together to create something beautiful. They started publishing chapters right after the season 14 finale and published a chapter every week until the season 15 premier. This is, essentially, a complete season 15 re write. It is masterfully done! Team Free Will vs. a zombie apocalypse. Also, lots and lots of old faces all brought together to save the world one last time. There's some heartbreak, some love, some smut, some fluff. (Also some Samwena to make everything even better.) 22 long chapters, each feeling like an actual episode, made this fic seem like an actual season. (And I wish the writers would steal from this fic's finale and make some... stuff... finally canon.) Truly a timeless Destiel masterpiece.
43. Something about Pinneaples by @lizleenimbus - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - This is an EXTREMELY adorable little DeanCas ficlet. No angst, no Big Sad ™, just sweet sweet, tooth rotting Destiel fluff.
44. Last Night on Earth by @the_communist_unicorn - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Sooo, I'm sure we all remember that disastrous night out, when the first big ol Apocalypse was gearing up, and Dean found out that Cas was an eons-old virgin... And I'm sure we all remember the disaster that was Cas and a prostitute. Anyways, here's what might have happened if Dean had taken a bit more of a... hands on approach. 😏 The chapters are all episodes that took place after the season five episode "Free To Be You And Me" and how they would have unfolded had Destiel become canon. I will warn you, their is smut (easily skippable) and there is DEFINITELY some angst. The whole thing is capped off with a bittersweet alternate ending to season five finale "Swan Song." I can't say much else without spoiling the ending, but all in all it is a very good fic to read.
45. Painted Angels *** by @WinJennster - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- HOLY FRAHOLY. I love this fic. A beautiful take on the classic trope of "We Had Something Good But I Ruined It, Now I'm Gonna Show Up Twelve Years Later And Try To Fix It... Also You're Engaged To Someone Else. Oops?" But seriously, all joking aside, this is an awesome fic. Painter!Dean x Writer!Cas, a match made in Heaven. (Hehe, get it? Heaven? Sorry I'll leave.) HOWEVER, do please be mindful of the tags. There is mentions of suicide and a couple paragraphs describing a rather grizzly accident to one of the main characters. Also, some lovely A+ John Winchester Parenting ™ and several instances of homophobic language. Still, this is an amazingly written fic and I can't stress how much I enjoyed it.  
46. Forgotten *** by @NorthernSparrow - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- So, first off, I have to talk about the author for a little bit. I have read every single fic by Northern Sparrow and EVERY SINGLE ONE is a friggin masterpiece. The amount of research and backstory that goes into these fics is truly awe-inspiring. Northern Sparrow leaves no plot holes, no mistakes, no typos, nada. Now, the actual fic in question is no exception. While not particularly a Destiel fic, it can be taken as pre slash. There is a sequel, a Destiel version and a non Destiel version, called Flight that I am currently reading as well. (The Destiel version of course 🤡) There is some serious whump and angst here, both physical and emotional. This fic is a canon divergent from around mid season 9, in which there is no Mark of Cain and is a continual re write of the season. Cas goes through a lot in this fic (my poor baby) and Dean and Sam go through some gnarly stuff as well. This is such a good fic, I really can't stress enough. I wish I was half as talented as Northern Sparrow is when it comes to writing stories. I promise, you will NOT be disappointed. 12/10
47. All is safely gathered in by @randomdestielfangirl - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Here is a cute little coda for season 12 episode 6, “Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox.” It’s mostly Mary-centric and her understanding of the Dean/Cas relationship. I’ve always had a soft spot for season 12 codas where Mary sees that Dean and Sam have grown up. (Especially those that have DeanCas in them.)
48. Bring Up the Deep by @deathbanjo - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Here is a pretty cool case!fic with eventual Destiel fluff at the end. The story line is a little heavy and dark, but nothing more than canon-typical violence. This involves Sam, Dean, and a human Cas traveling to the beach to investigate a “sea monster.” Fair warning, there are moments describing Cas’ depression and struggle with figuring out who he is and who he wants to be, but again, not as bad as season 9... (STILL not forgiving the writers for that fiasco.)
49. Hazy Shade of Winter by @GeekPrincess - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Here is yet another case!fic. This one has Team Free Will and Mary teaming up to solve a case in rural Wyoming in the middle of winter. It takes place not too long after Mary’s resurrection and Sam being freed from the British Men of Letters. At first it seems to be just a normal case, but per Winchester fashion, someone ends up getting attacked. Definitely worth a read.  
50. A Little Old Fashioned by @theheartchoice - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Another coda, sorry... (I’ve been going through a faze) This one takes place in the aftermath of 14x13 episode “Lebanon.” I was disappointed that Cas didn’t play that big of a role in the 300th episode. I thought for sure he would considering he WASN’T EVEN IN THE 200TH EPISODE. *Clears throat* Umm, ya. Just some Destiel fluff of Cas taking care of Dean’s wounds the old fashioned way after John’s departure.  
51. Same Deep Water by @braezenkitty - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Team Free Will heads to California to investigate a string of mysterious deaths in a supposedly haunted hotel called the Brookdale Lodge, nestled in the redwoods of Santa Cruz. I particularly enjoyed this fic because it has a definite early SPN vibe. Very creepy and eerie and reminded me a lot of No Exit (2x06) and Playthings (2x11). Also a bit of flirty!Cas and jealous!Dean.  
52. Looking for a Sign* by @emwebb17 - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- THIS FIC... is sooo adorable. Holy Chuck. Dean meets Cas on his bus ride to work and tries to talk with him. Not realizing that Cas is deaf, Dean just assumes he’s being ignored and goes out of his way to get Cas to interact with him. After weeks of no response he finally realizes that Cas can’t hear him and so Dean offers that they start over with their acquaintanceship. Dean meets all of Cas’ friends and they quickly grow closer and closer. They would be perfect for each other except Cas refuses to date hearing people. (Also, bonus points for the pun in the title.)
53. Peanut Butter-Pumpkin Wedding Cake by @Sparseparsley - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I’ve seen this fic on so many rec lists and I’m so mad that it took me this long to finally read it. Bartender!Dean meets Cas at a bachelor party and they hit it off right away. Then, when Cas’ car breaks down, Dean offers to drive him around to make preparations for the upcoming wedding. Dean has a massive crush, but thanks to Dean’s remarkable ability to jump to conclusions, he thinks that Cas is the one getting married in 2 weeks. Read it just for the sake of watching two idiots dance around each other for weeks on end. They aren’t fooling anyone but themselves.  
54. My Marble Guardian by @LadyDrace - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Bring tissues cuz this one hurts like a season 12 finale. (Heh. I’m hilarious.) Dean is killing himself trying to support little Sam after their parents die. Dean is close to ending it all and takes to talking to the marble angel statue that sits by his mother’s grave. I can’t say much else without spoiling the ending so you’ll have to read it yourself to find out how it ends.  
55. The Law of Equivalent Exchange** by @awed_frog - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Holy crap! This fic is truly amazing. @awed-frog is one of my favourite authors of all time. (And has featured on this rec list before.) This fic follows Castiel caring for his ward, a man who will one day be called Dean Winchester. Follow Cas through Rome, Greece, Paris, Russia, Germany, and more as he guides the impossibly bright soul that Heaven claims will one day save them all. In other words, Cas is sent to earth to watch over Dan, son of Enoch and continues to do so until January 24th, 1979, the day Dean Winchester is finally born. The fic then becomes canon-compliant all the way until season 11, then stems into a canon-divergent for defeating Amara. All from Cas’ POV, we see how he went from being Castiel, Angel of Tears and Thursdays to Cas, Angel of Dean Winchester. 12/10.  
56. A Way Back Home* by @thatpeculiarone - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Another AU with deaf!Cas. Dean is a lonely bakery owner whose past is full of heartbreak and loss. He meets Clair Novak, a mute girl who has no one to talk to, after Jody suggests that they meet. Neither are too keen on the idea at first, but they soon discover a perfect remedy for their predicament. Dean loves to tell stories and Clair loves to hear them. Dean has a story for every pastry in his bakery, and Clair soon realizes that all of Dean’s stories seem to revolve around one person. After finally discovering why Dean always looks sad when no one is looking, hates Valentines Day with a passion, and only ever talks about his best friend in the past tense, Clair is determined to help Dean get the happily-ever-after that he never got to have.  
57. Such Familiar Magic by @saltnhalo - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This fic was inspired by the artwork of very talented @lizleeships here on Tumblr. This is the first witch AU I’ve ever read and it did not disappoint. Cas is a reclusive witch with unimaginable power and Dean is one of the most powerful familiars in North America. Both of our boys have some dark secrets and ghosts from their pasts threaten to separate the two for good.
58. I'm fine by @lizleenimbus - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Can I just say, WOW. This one is yet another small ficlet to go along with @lizleeships artwork. This fic, despite its short length, is so potent and amazing! The writer effortlessly blends the canon SPN with the world of Destiel and I am LIVING for it. The somber and quiet nature of this fic makes it an excellent read for a late at night fanfic session.
59. The Shadows on his Shoulders by @lizleenimbus (Yes, I know. Two in a row... I don't care.)- Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Okay, first off, @lizleenimbus has become one of my favourite fic writers EVER. This fic is canon compliant (sort of) for season 6, just when Dean is beginning to figure out that something is wrong with Sam. (In the soul department, that is.. .) This here is a wingfic to end all wingfics. I love the writing, the characterization, the plot, everything, just... *chefs kiss.*
60. The Care and Feeding of Castiel by @MalMuses - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Soooo, another wingfic!! (No, I don't have a problem. YOU have a problem...) I am a total sucker for wing!grooming DeanCas fics. I just, gosh! I love them so much! I love this fic more every time, no matter how many times I've read it before.  
61. Asunder by @rageprufrock - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Now, listen here lil clowns. Everyone loves a good "I need a plus one for my brother's wedding" trope and this here fic is the perfect one. And if you don't love it, this is absolutely NOT the fic for you. Sam is getting married and Dean doesn't want to go to it alone, so he enlists the company of his best friend Cas to go with him. Shenanigans and misunderstandings ensue, topped off with a healthy serving of meddling family members. A great rainy afternoon read.
62. Good Call by @sysrae - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - First, please be mindful of the tags as Dean meets Cas by talking him off of a ledge. However, despite the horrible start, this series is still incredibly fluffy and sappy. It also has Therapist!Benny being exasperated by Dean and Cas' utter stupidity around each other. This is a very heartwarming fic that balances the angst with fluff perfectly.
63. 'Tis but a Crush by @Annie D - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - Here is an awesome little meet cute modern AU fic! Cas notices that a man with startling green eyes stares at him whenever they are together. Cas is interested immediately but the green eyed man seems too shy to approach Cas. Fluff and awkward moments soon follow.
64. Where There's Smoke, Theres Fire** by @OsirisApollo - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - So, first of, I am absolutely in LOVE with Firefighter!Dean. Cas is an ER doctor who meets Dean after the fire alarm in his apartment building goes off. Cas manages to make a fool of himself but is comforted by the fact that he'll never see the attractive firefighter again. Boy, was Cas wrong. The two men seem to run into each other practically everywhere, and no matter how hard Cas tries, he always seems to embarrass himself with every meeting. This fic was responsible for making me squeal aggressively at 2 AM. 10/10 Destiel fluff.
65. Forget - Me - Not -Blues*** by @noangelsinthegarrison - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is a fic that I go back and read over and over again. It’s got a perfect balance of fluff and angst, misunderstandings, and a healthy dose of clueless, meddling family and friends. Bottom line is, Sam is getting married and Dean is going to be the best man. He’s thrilled, until he finds out that Castiel Novak is Jess’ honorary Maid of Honour. Dean and Cas had a... something or other back in high school. Dean would ask to be friends again but Cas is intent on pretending that they never knew each other in the first place. Misunderstandings, awkward moments, and an obscene amount of embarrassment ensues, no thanks at all to the “tradition” surrounding the Maid of Honour and the Best Man. 10/10.  
66. Ignore the Butterflies: Best Friend Advice from Dean Winchester by @impatient14 - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Okay, this one has practically every romcom trope out there... AND I AM LIVING FOR IT. (*Clears throat) Ya, soooo. Doctor Cas and Firefighter Dean are friends. Best friends actually. Totally platonic bros. A bromance for the ages. The broist bros to ever bro. That’s it. No homosexual feelings to be found here. None at all... Or so Dean tries to convince himself.  
67. Prosopagnosia by @misseditallagain - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Man, this fic is really adorable and quite heartbreaking at times. Cas has a cognitive disorder that means he can’t ever remember faces. He’s given up on finding love until he meets one Dean Winchester, but he’s afraid to tell his hot date the truth about his condition. Assumptions are made and misunderstandings threaten to tear the two apart for good, but maybe there’s a chance for these two after all.  
68. Midnight Blues AKA To Hell and Back (Courtesy of Sig Sauer) by @outofminutes - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- As we all know, I am a glutton for damaged!Dean being cared for by Cas. Dean is a war veteran. He’s been discharged for five years but he hasn’t dared to go back home until now. He’s not the same person he was all those years ago and the constant haunting of horrors past threaten to tear him apart. Thankfully, he’s got a loving family and a new friend (Hehe. Guess who. Sorry, I’ll leave) to help him pick up the pieces.  
69. Scars by @lemonsorbae - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Okay, first off: WOOOO 69! NOICE! OKay, I’m done... So, this fic stands out to me for the writers unique take on some popular tropes. Dean is a tattoo artist with green hair (Insert Priestly from Ten Inch Hero here.) and Cas is the stereotypical hipster. They don’t get along very well at the beginning of this fic. (Which is a HUGE understatement btw). Then, a drunken party leads to certain... unsavory actions, and both swear that it will never happen again. And that’s a total lie. Lots of smutty times in this one so be warned, also references to past trauma for both of our favourite boys so please mind the tags before reading.  
70. The One Thing You Can’t Lose by @MajorEnglishEsquire - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is just a cuddly, tooth-rottingly fluffy little ficlet for some happy DeanCas feels. Warning: Do not read in public place for there WILL be squeals.  
71. The Ugly Sweater Verse by @nerdylittledude - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I know, I know. Everyone who’s ever read Destiel fanfiction has heard of the Ugly Sweater Verse. I don’t care! I’m reccing it anyway. A newly human Castiel wants to experience every holiday to its fullest, dragging Dean and Sam (But mostly Dean) along with him. This is an AU for after season 5 in which Sam is alive, Cas is human, and Dean finally gets his head out of his ass. (With a little... okay a lot of help from the rest of Team Free Will.) This is an awesome feel-good Verse that is always nice to read after a bad day. There is a prequel to this Verse that is stand-alone, but you don’t have to read it to get the rest of the Verse. (Also, if you’re only looking for fluffy times then I wouldn’t recommend reading the prequel. You have been warned.)
72. Cats and Tats by @Jemariel - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This here is the quintessential Coffee Shop AU that no one asked for (Well.. I asked for it. I’m lonely dammit)  Cas owns a coffee shop that is right next door to a tattoo shop owned by our own Dean Winchester. Dean doesn’t like the pastel coffee shop because it totally ruins his badassery vibe, and Cas doesn’t need another distraction like Dean, and poor Sam never gets a moments peace.  
73. Moving On by @BruisedCastiel - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Castiel is a witch who reads fortunes for a living. One day he gets a customer named Dean whose reading has a shocking outcome. Not too much later, Dean’s ghost comes looking for Castiel seeking answers. This fic starts out pretty sad and things look hopeless for Dean and Cas but don’t worry! There’s a happy ending.  
74. Into the Fire** by @NorthernSparrow- Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I’ve mentioned on this list before that NorthernSparrow is my favourite fic writer of all time. And their work has been featured several times on this list before. Now, be warned. This fic gets VERY dark VERY quickly. Dean, shortly after the Mark of Cain is removed, is cursed and he kills Cas. The trauma of the Mark, the guilt he feels for killing Cas, and the looming threat of the Darkness sends Dean into a mental breakdown. Sam, mourning the loss of Cas himself, is left to try and put together what is left of Dean’s sanity AND to come up with a plan to defeat the Darkness. Sam and Dean, with the help of several allies, come together to save the universe once and for all. This is a full AU starting sometime in early season 11 and finishes all the way through the end of the season. There is a lot of sadness and guilt in this fic, so please be careful going into it. Bring tissues. I cried gratuitously throughout this fic. But don’t worry because THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING. Bonus points for TrueForm!Cas. 15/10.  
75. There’d Be No Distance by @imogenbynight - Archive Of  Our Own.  
Thoughts- Just a short, feel-good, fluffy Christmas fic for ya. Cas is lonely on New Years because he assumes that he won’t be welcome to the family get-together. But don’t worry! Dean sets the record straight with his angel. (Well...Not straight but... you know what I mean.)  
76. Imperfect Proposals by @Fallen_Angel_Meg - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Okay, so, Cas is a total jerk at the beginning of this fic. He’s demanding, arrogant, cruel, and just rude to practically everyone who works at his firm. Dean is his new assistant and needs this job if he’s ever going to make it as an architect, but Castiel isn’t making it easy for him. Things get more complicated when Cas is threatened with being deported so he says that Dean is his fiance. Dean isn’t on board until Cas threatens to fire him if he doesn’t play along. Now they just  have to make it through Sam and Jess’ wedding. Easy... Right?  (There IS a happy ending it just takes these two idiots a while to get there.)
77. The Novak Hickey Mystery by @FagurFiskur - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is just a short ficlet involving Professor Novak’s mysterious relationship and some VERY nosy students. Nice and quick happy-go-lucky fic with no angst and plenty of tooth rotting fluff.  
78. Come Back* by @lizleenimbus - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is yet another short, canon-verse ficlet for you guys. (I know these last couple fics have been pretty short but I have been reading so many long fics recently that I’ve needed a bit of a mental break from the stress of a slow burn lol) Anyways, this is one of my favourite authors. Literally, every single thing by this author is a freaking gold mine of Destiel goodness. This particular ficlet chronicles Dean and Cas sharing an intimate conversation after a particularly nasty hunt. I love these types of fics in which Dean and Cas actually Use There Words™ and talk like Grown Ups™. (Never happens canonically so I’ll take what I can get. Looking at you SPN writers.) ALSO, this has artwork also by  @lizleeships! I swear, this individual is too frickin talented. 10/10!
79. And then there were Six* by @lizleenimbus - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I know, I know. Two in a row by the same author... This author rocks okay! (Seriously, go check them out) This right here is a wing fic my friends. But not the type we are used to. It involves a bashful Cas, flustered Dean (And I know we ALL love a flustered Dean), and a very amused little brother. I love this ficlet especially as it is a beautiful take on the fact that Seraphim are supposed to have six wings.  
80. Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day by @awed_frog - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Here’s another fic from a “rec list favourite” author of mine. This is a pretty cool case fic with an awesome monster of the week. (Japanese folklore at its finest.) A creature manifests itself as a person’s true love. Sam sees Jess, Cas sees Dean, Dean sees Cas (And has a freakout along the way.)  
81. Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by @sobsicles - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Hoooo Boy! Talk about an angst fest. Set sometime in early season 15, Dean and Cas get their memories wiped and Dean is convinced that they are serial killers on the run from some tall guy named Sam. Things get awkward when they get their memories back, as they also remember what the two of them did when they were on the run together. Dean talks out of his ass, Cas gets angry (rightfully so), Sam and Eileen just want a moments peace, and LOTS of bad blood gets let out out into the open for the first time in years. This fic was hard to read because, true to Winchester fashion, Dean and Cas’ communication during this fic is TERRIBLE. Just when you think the two of them are about to hash things out, one of them goes and says something stupid and they have to start all over again. I definitely recommend this fic, but be prepared to brave some hardcore angst before Dean and Cas get their happy ending.  
82. Lost in Words, Hand in Hand* by @hallowgirl - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is the fluffiest fluffy fic to ever fluff! (Try saying that 10 times fast.) Dean tells Cas that he never got read to as a child, so Cas takes it upon himself to read to Dean. It was supposed to be a one time thing, but the two enjoy the time together more than they thought they would. Plus, there’s so many books to read, and laying in the same bed is just practical. That’s it. Just guys being dudes. And if Dean happens to fall asleep on Cas’ shoulder? Well, that’s not his fault at all. (Also, bonus points for Sam being the typical smug little bro who lets Dean know that he and Cas aren’t as subtle as they think they are.) 
83. La Hantise** by @quiettewandering - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Okay so, I have been waiting to read this fic for FOREVER. I read the first couple chapters a long time ago (back when it was still a WIP) and I immediately fell in love. I decided, rather painfully, to stop reading and save it to my Marked For Later until it was finished. I have a hard time when it comes to WIPs because I forget what I read during the previous update and I often times lose interest until I can read it all in one go. I couldn’t wait to read it and I was not disappointed! This fic is BEAUTIFULLY written and the story seems to come to life before your eyes. This is the Destiel we all fell in love with; Two damaged and broken beings finding peace within each other. Warning: these two are complete idiots and there’s a lot of pining and some pretty hefty angst. Castiel’s backstory is truly, completely and utterly, tragic. Dean’s isn’t a picnic either I suppose, but it’s Cas past that comes back to haunt Dean and Cas in this fic. The author seamlessly interweaves the reality with the make believe and it sucks the reader into the story effortlessly. 14/10. A Destiel classic.  
84. Cheers, Angel Eyes by @wannaliveindeansdimples - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- As I’m sure you all know by now, I am in love with bartender! and barista!Dean. This fic has a healthy dose of bartender!Dean for you. In this fic, Castiel, known to Dean only as Angel Eyes, is a regular at the bar that Dean owns. The two hit it off during the few conversations that they have and decide to give themselves a chance. Very minimal angst and only just a small bit of pining from Dean’s POV. A very good, quick, none painful read.  
85. best friends without benefits by @lizbobjones - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This fic is set between the end of season 11 and the beginning of season 12 and is canon divergent for the most part. This one is pretty funny and enjoyable to read, if only for the sake of poor Sam and Mary dealing with two complete idiots. Dean lets slip to Cas that he finds Cas driving Baby “hot” and Cas admits that he has known of Dean’s attraction for years. Cas proposes he and Dean enter a Friends With Benefits relationship and Dean just can’t say no. But Dean just digs himself deeper and deeper into trouble after he mistakes Cas’ preposition as a rejection of deeper feelings. Misunderstandings happen, Dean is a big baby, Cas is clueless, and Sam is stuck in the middle.  
87. Shifter by @@LadyLini - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- There are tons and tons of fics out there where Dean and Cas are the bumbling idiots of the story (Yes, just like in the show) and Sam is the one who has everything figured out. But this fic looks at the idea of Sam being the one out of the loop and Dean and Cas being the ones who actually know what the heck is going on. This is a cool AU in which Sam went to Stanford, John Winchester is still an ass hole, and Destiel is canon. This was a cool take on how the events of the show would have taken place if Sam wasn’t there and Cas had been the one to save Dean from Azazel.  
89. diamond star halo by @jad - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is a wonderfully light-hearted little fic in which Cas possesses Dean while his vessel recovers from the attack dog spell. We also get some great brotherly banter, Cas and Dean bickering like an old married couple, and other Team Free Will shenanigans. Also, poor Sam.  
90. like moses and batman and james dean by @saltyfeathers - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Oooohh boy. This fic is quite the can of worms for me. Here, the author gives us a more detailed account of Dean’s past of turning tricks in order to raise little Sammy, and how this past is affecting his current relationship with our Wayward Angel. This is a heavier fic and please be mindful of the tags (Yes, John Winchester’s A+ parenting is one of them...) But it DOES have a happy ending.  
91. any port in the storm by @mishcollin - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- If you are looking for a case!fic with Dean and Cas pretending to be dating on a couple’s cruise then you have come to the right place. I love this fic specifically for the care and detail of the case. Even more, there are lots and lots of OCs in this fic and every single one of them has their own personality and backstory. Be warned: there are lots of arguments between the elder Winchester and newly human Castiel. (Most of them because Dean is a big ol idiot in this fic and keeps the possible location of Cas’ fallen grace from him because of his Winchester Fear Of Abandonment ™)
92. Sunset Plaza by @LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Dang! This is a great fic. Cas is practically married to his work and never goes on vacations, so his loving brother Gabriel decides to book him a weekend at a resort. Cas ends up having to share his room with one Dean Winchester the first night due to a problem with the server at the hotel. But they manage to make the best of it (if ya know what I mean...) Everything is great until its time to go home. They could make it work, but our lovable idiots can’t let anything be that easy. (Extra points for a little dash of Sabriel and meddling Gabriel.)
93. Longing by @whelvenwings - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is a really fluffy fic set in canonverse. Dean and Cas finally have a discussion that has been long in the making, ending years of mutual pining. The tone of this fic is very sweet and is a great, feel-good, nighttime read. Give me Destiel and Impala confessions and I’m one happy clown.  
94. Hallelujah! Noel! Be it Heaven or Hell by @EnochianThings - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- EnochianThings is one of my favourite fic writers of all time! I can’t believe its taken me this long to rec this fic. This is an angsty holiday fic in which Cas confesses his feelings first and Dean is a total assbutt about it. Dean is at a loss after he realizes that he might of just driven away the one thing that could have made him the happiest: Cas. (Oh, don’t get me started on a rejected Cas... My heart can’t bear his sultry seraphim sadness.)
95. I’ll Cross the Sky for You by @superhoney - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I am going to start this off by saying that I wasn’t really into this fic at first. I had found it through tags alone and it sat in my Marked for Later for months. I liked the tags, but I wasn’t sure about the premise of the fic. I could NOT have been more wrong. This fic was absolutely adorable. Barista!Dean meets Captain!Castiel... but in space! (With space ships and everything!) Anyways, very adorable, very cute. Definitely worth checking out.  
96. Nepeta Cataria* by @thepopeisdope - Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I would literally give anything for there to be more Witch!Cas x Familiar!Dean fics out there. This is one of my favourite AUs and I feel like it is so lacking compared to many of the others. In this fic, Cas is a lonesome witch who plants catnip to prevent mosquitoes from being in his garden. Little did he know that it would also attract Dean, a powerful familiar, who just so happens to be the love of Cas’ life. (Familiar!Dean is almost always a dog in the fics I find so it was great to get to see him as a cat. Honestly, Cat Familar!Dean might be my favourite.)
97.Texas State of Mind** by @palominopup – Archive of Our Own. 
Thoughts- This is an awesome fic with country singer Castiel Novak meeting Dean Winchester, a man who was once an award-winning country music star. Dean has a complicated past, as he didn’t leave the industry on a good note (Compliments of John Winchester’s A+ Parenting™) He’s sworn off ever singing again and is content to look after his horses for the rest of his life... That is, until Cas Novak wants to sing a duet. This is an awesome fic with lots of familiar SPN faces. It takes Dean and Cas a little while to come around for each other, but once they do, they’re a fluffy force to be reckoned with.
98. In Real Life by @cloudyjenn – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This is a hilarious little meetcute in which Dean has been communicating with this guy online... They’ve never done anything but exchange messages and texts, never even seen each other’s faces, but Dean is pretty sure he’s in love with him. Sam decides that such a relationship is completely pointless if the two will never meet so he introduces his brother to Castiel. Dean thinks he’s hot and would totally go out with him, but he just can’t bring himself to like someone other than his online mystery man. But Cas is fine with Dean not being interested, mostly because there’s this guy he met online who, even though they’ve never met... Aaaand ya. You all can guess where this is going hahaha. But it gets even better when Sam realizes that Dean and Cas are each other’s mystery online crushes and decides to have a little fun with it. 
99. Rentboy by @Naoe – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Dean Winchester’s life hasn’t been pretty, but he’s happy with it because at least he got Sammy the life and opportunities he wanted. Dean’s life takes an interesting turn when he meets Castiel at a benefit. Dean, ashamed of his job, comes up with a new name and a new life story for this strange man. Somehow, the two form an unlikely bond, Dean supporting Castiel as his wife is dying. But the lie Dean told is still there and he has no idea how to fix it. And once Castiel’s wife is gone, the lie is the only thing keeping them from truly being together. Castiel isn’t in love with Dean Winchester... at least, not the real one. Needless to say, life isn’t easy for a Rent boy in the 80s. 
100. Silver and Cold by @superhoney – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- Silver and Cold is an amazing AU in which Castiel is a wayward hunter afraid of settling down and a dark past that haunts him everywhere he goes. While on a case investigating a possible werewolf attack, Cas runs into Dean Winchester, a recluse who lives up in the woods of Sydnam, Maine. He’s got a bad temper and a past to rival Cas’. If it weren't for the alarming amount of evidence pointing towards Dean being the werewolf, Cas thinks Dean might just be more kind than he lets people believe. 
101. Any Little Heartbreak* by @followthattardis – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This was a fic that I started reading a long time ago, but somehow lost and couldn’t find it again. But I finally found it and the joy I felt was unparalleled. (My little clown heart could barely take it) Dean is a heart surgeon. He’s frickin good at it to... Maybe even one of the best in the US. He knows everything there is to know about the human heart. (“Anatomically speaking”) He’s just transferred to a new hospital and the head nurse is totally hot. And Dean also happens to make a fool of himself in front of said nurse on his very first day at the hospital. From there, it seems that despite his best efforts, Cas doesn’t like Dean at all. (And EVERYONE likes Dean so, what the hell?) Dean thinks his crush will go away if he can just get all that tension out of his system... Boy was he wrong. I LOVE this fic and I am so glad I was able to find it again. I especially liked how all the hospital staff were all familiar faces. 😊 
102. What happened between me and Cas* by @AthenaErrata – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- This right here?? Broke me. BROKE ME I TELL YOU. (*Clears throat) This is a coda set just after 11x19 episode The Chitters, in which Dean finally tells Sam everything. The secret kisses, stolen touches. The betrayals, the lies, the guilt. Everything. All the things involving Cas that Dean promised himself he would never tell another soul. Dean retells events from seasons 4 to 11 and gives a bit more info into just why he and Cas can never truly be happy together. The fic continues into a canon-compliant tale all the way until a beautiful happy reunion set in 13x06 episode Tombstone. 
103. True Faces* by @Tibbins – Archive of Our Own.  
Thoughts- I'm pretty sure that this author has featured on this rec list a couple times before. Tibbins is one of my favourite SPN writers of all time. This is a trilogy verse in which Dean, Sam, and Cas tell some truths that should have been shared a LONG time ago. In the first one, titled “Behind the Mask”, Dean convinces Sam to open up about some things that has been bothering him and Sam finally sheds some light on what it was like being tortured by Lucifer. The second, titled “In the Mind”, follows Dean as he opens up to Sam following the conversation from the first fic. He tells Sam more of what happened in Hell and why he will never really be able to wipe the blood off his hands. The last fic (Which is pre slash Destiel) titled “Under the Skin”, Cas gets to discuss with Dean the things that haunt the angel’s mind. The last one is especially painful... Though the two finally admit their feelings for one another, Dean explains to Cas why he just isn’t ready yet. It’s sad, but it has a hopeful ending.
104. In My Time of Vinyl by @freclesarechocolate - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- First off, damn! This fic is one to pull at your heartstrings. I am a a shameless lover of hurt!Dean and this fic delivers beautifully. Cas, driven to seek shelter from the rain, enters the record shop owned by Dean. Dean is sweet and offers shelter for the night and Cas ends up promising to come back to buy some records. The two create a fast friendship but Cas ends up noticing some things that are a little off with Dean. He’s always smiling, but sometimes the smiles can’t cover up the sadness in his eyes. He doesn’t talk about his family or his past, and he never seems to have a lot of food in his fridge. This is a story of coming to terms with mental health, friendship, love, trust, and letting others help you. I absolutely recommend this fic! Quick warning, however, Dean has a very troubled life and his story is no picnic ride. Be sure to check out the tags before reading.
105. Hunter’s Caress*** by @Ltleflrt - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is probably in my top five most favourite Destiel fics of all time. I have read this fic all the way through at least twice now. The story follows Castiel Jameson, a Pinkerton Detective, who is on a quest to revenge his murdered brother. He seeks the help of the outlaw Dean Winchester, a dangerous man who supposedly has enough blood on his hands to fill an ocean. Cas saves Dean and his brother Sam from being hung in exchange for their assistance in tracking the rat bastard who killed his brother. The two start out as enemies, then to begrudging allies, friend, and maybe even something more. Cas tries to keep his mind on business, but he aches to learn the feeling of a Hunter’s Caress. 20/10. Be warned though, this fic gets pretty gritty. The world of hunters and outlaws is messy and dangerous. This fic deals with death, injury, rape, and worse. Be careful before heading in but I assure you, this fic will not disappoint.
106. Love Bites* by @malmuses - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- MalMuses is one of the best fic writers out there. A true legend in the SPN fandom! This fic is one of my favourite as it features Creature!Dean x Human!Castiel. In this fic, Cas takes in a bat that his cat got a hold of. Cas knows that there’s something special about this bat. He seems to understand human speech and loves hamburgers. But even stranger, his eyes are the exact same green as the cute mechanic who comes into the coffee shop sometimes.
!107-117. All of these are just codas set for post 15x18 and for post finale/finale rewrites. They are pretty much very similar. Dean breaks down and Sam is left to pick up the pieces. Most, if not all, have happy/hopeful endings.
107. Everything is Blue  by @malmuses - AO3
108. Tag to “Despair” by @Alvinola- AO3
109. Time by @Chipper99- AO3
110. When It All Crashes Down by @spacegirlstuff - AO3
111. Through the clouds by @judithhandronicus - AO3
112. Because it is by @60r3d0m - AO3
113. the burden of belonging by @Newtondale - AO3
114. Counting the days by @WanderUntilLost - AO3
115. The Weight of Silence by @jscribbles - AO3
116. As It Should Be by @Loser_Angel_666 - AO3
117. When you have a home by @Firebog - Archive of Our Own.
118. What’s Left Unsaid (Is Finally Said) by @A_Place_To_Roam - Archive of Our Own. 
119. When you have a future by @Firebog - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- This is a lovely fic in which Sam succeeds in closing Hell and Castiel is able to board up Heaven. Everyone lives happily-ever-after. No looming Apocalypse, no higher power, no fate. Found family is the only thing that remains. But Dean is left with this strange feeling rolling around in his gut. Like he’s waiting for the next disaster to happen. Meanwhile Sam learns about dog poetry from Castiel, Team Free Will gets pet rabbits (named after porn stars), Dean finally gets his head out of his ass, and Sam learns something shocking about his older brother.
120. Remarkable by @shiphitsthefan - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Castiel’s the new elementary school teacher in town. One of his classmates, one Ben Braeden, has a father who is just as annoying as was promised. Dean’s “helpful” books and readings he brings Castiel about being more socially aware get easily dismissed as overly-involved-parent-crap. But that all changes after Castiel reads Ben Braeden’s essay assignment.
121. (Dis) Affection by @justkeeponwriting - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts - This fic!!!!! This fic is soo frickin adorable. Dean and Cas’ nosy friends set them up on a blind date. Neither of them is very happy so they devise an epic plan of revenge. Act like the most disgustingly in love couple ever and then have a terrible public breakup. Hopefully their friends will feel so guilty that they never try to set the two up again. The plan goes amazingly. Dean and Cas find it easy to fake being a newly in love couple... Almost too easily.
122. Uniform of a Winchester******** by @monsterfuckerdean - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Its fics like these that I think set the SPN fandom apart from others. The thought put into these works makes them so real, so painstakingly relatable, make the characters come to life both on screen and in words. This is a heartbreaking character study of Dean Winchester. The author gives the reader a glimpse into the backstory behind Dean’s jewelry. The skull bracelet given to him by Missouri, the ring given to him by a childhood friend named Lee Webb, and more. This fic will break your heart. And if you’re like me, you won’t be able to find another fic that comes anywhere close to it. (If you do, please give it to me.) I’ve read this fic many times over. I take this fic as canon, completely and utterly. Dean Winchester is written so perfectly that the writers of the show are frickin jealous.
123. In Someone Else’s Life by @blue_morning - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- A classic Destiel wedding trope! Cas, along with his obnoxious-but-lovable brother Gabriel, accidentally crash a stranger’s wedding. Cas meets Jessica, the lucky bride, along with Sam, the best man. But its the groom with beautiful green eyes that Castiel can’t take his eyes off of. Assumptions are made, embarrassment ensues, and maybe... just maybe, happily ever afters do really happen.
124. Nobody’s Fault But Mine by @peanutbutterjelly-pie - Archive of Our Own.
Thoughts- Oh! the fluff! Its killing me. Cas meets Dean and Sam Winchester. Both ridiculously attractive and both total sweethearts. But Castiel finds himself falling for Sam, the older brother with the beautiful green eyes. Too bad he’s getting married to Jessica in a few weeks... Tee hee hee. It’s glorious.
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rokutouxei · 4 years
Text
you are still the sun that shines for me
part 8 of atelier heart
ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | G | 3593 | [ao3 in bio]
Life couldn’t get any better. You enjoy what you do here, spending your life without regrets with the person you love the most. That is, until you meet her. The woman who still loves Theo.
CHAPTER 2
The remaining days of the exhibit pass by in a blur. Or rather, neither of you really feel quite like any of it is real, after that first day.
Theo had been so excited on the opening day, as he always is. Opening days were the most thrilling, after all: setting up the canvases, perfecting the gallery, letting people in, seeing the wonder in their eyes—Theo had hardly slept the night before, tossing and turning in excitement. The both of you left the mansion long before dawn broke just to prepare the exhibit space, to carry off the paintings out of the atelier to the gallery, hidden by pre-dawn darkness from the academie’s prying eyes.
And oh, the Academie! The time spent making sure everything was done right, that no one was going to let this out, to check the location, to clear the area of any possible Academie goons looking around… it was time well spent, now that the exhibit was opening! Months and months of hard work encapsulated into five exciting days for the organizers—the both of you—and the artists. Just like that, the rolls and rolls of gauze and a lot of hidden first-aid sessions from fistfights in the alley and the piles and piles of syrup-drowned pancakes and late nights organizing and reorganizing things to perfection has finally come to this.
It wouldn’t stand long–five days is the expected run time–but what matters is it stands. Five days was already longer than the not at all that used to be the norm when he started in this new life of his.
All of this—the excitement, the worry, the nervous satisfaction—had left Theo’s hands nervous and shaky. The sun was still out and he was fixing his tie in the candlelight, behind you in front of the mirror, with no avail. You took the chance to laugh at him (“Don’t laugh at me.” “I’m not laughing at you!” “You’re not laughing with me, either.”) before tiptoeing and pressing a kiss at his creased forehead.
Standing in front of him, just close enough to kiss, you carefully re-did his tie, humming gently. You were already mostly dressed up, with just your hair left to be done. He wanted to press a kiss at the crown of your heard and say you look so beautiful, but instead he held the words in with a thin crescent-moon smile he can feel all the way down his heart. The soft light in his eyes his unsaid I love you.
He trusted in your mind, your skill of reading him, of seeing right through his pretenses.
(He shouldn’t have.)
Because now, on the next day of the exhibit, he wishes he did. He watches you tie a ribbon onto your hair at the dresser, not meeting his eye even if he stares at you hard enough to bore a hole right through. He wishes he did, now that you barely spoke a word to him this morning, even if you’d shared a rather intimate night the night before night. He wishes he did, now that you don’t have even the heart to look back and see if he’s done his tie right today. He thinks of the way you’d pulled him down yesterday morning, his tie in your fist even though you’ve carefully tried to keep it unwrinkled at first, as you tiptoed to press a kiss on his lips, grinning wide when you got away.
Instead, the door creaks open, your hand on the doorknob; you’re not even looking at him. “I’ll just drink some water in the kitchen; I’ll see you in the entryway,” you say, rather blandly, and then leave the room.
The weight of his unsaid oh what would I do without you is painful and bitter on his tongue.
-
You feign sick on the day of the exhibit’s egress. Theo tucks you into bed and leaves. It feels way too easy, like Theo was also avoiding you.
You don’t know how long it’ll take before you finally get the courage to ask him—to talk to him about this. You know—the rational part of you knows things will be better, resolved faster, be easier if you’d just told him—but when your stomach goes into knots just seeing his eyes because you see them mirrored in the irises of a boy named after his brother, you are powerless to your fear.
You let the sight simmer at the back of your mind. You had thrown yourself into the business of the exhibit proper to actually think about this for the past few days, but today… today, alone in his bedroom, in the century you’d decided to stay in for him, you have all the time to think.
When he left this morning, you lingered in that goodbye embrace, not really wanting to let go.
The thoughts hang over you like storm clouds. Not wanting to be alone with your angry, paranoid inner voice, you settle for helping Sebastian throughout the day. You let yourself overthink when you’re lost in the rhythm of a chore. While hanging the laundry, you think, honestly? You’re not surprised to know that Theo had a family of his own when he was alive. As you’re scrubbing the dishes, you admire—you lament—how he’s capable, and steady, and charming, and has great passion for what he was doing. While smoothing bedsheets, you recall how quickly you loved him—you knew how easy it was to fall for a man like that.
Something green begins to seethe inside of your chest.
-
Theo is surrounded by patrons, in the middle of conversation with other art dealers who have come to visit (having heard of his prowess), but he doesn’t really feel like part of it. He feels like you should be there with him instead, knows you will be able to provide more interesting insights, but that was a luxury he could not bring himself to ask for.
“Monsieur van Gogh?” one of the businessmen call out to him, and Theo’s mind snaps back into place.
One of the older patrons laugh. “Tired? Forgiven, but only because we see your hard work right here.”
“Pardon, messieurs,” Theo says, fitting an awkward smile on his face. It doesn’t feel right. To smile. To act like he’s okay. “Where were we?”
“Monet, Monsieur Theodore,” a dealer named Desrosiers says. “We were talking about endorsing Monet.”
Theo nods, but only half-listens.
-
One of the better-kept secrets of the mansion is Sebastian’s collections of history books from the future.
Between that fateful conversation where Comte had offered to bring him back and ask him to work at the mansion and the door actually opening, Sebastian decided to do his best to prepare himself for the long-haul. A good move on his part, considering he was uprooting himself for good, into a world far into the past. Having been assured that all of the essentials will be provided to him in the mansion, all Sebastian really needed to bring with him was luxury items from the present: and he decided that a collection of history books on various topics would be the best option for a history nerd such as himself.
It was a secret (to everyone besides him, Comte, and you) because Sebastian felt like he would ultimately alter something inevitable if he had left his collection in the library, to the others’ prying eyes. The last thing Sebastian wants to do is mess with the history even more than the timeslipping of all these great figures already has.
For a moment, you consider tasting what it means to change history, returning to the sight in the gallery, but then you shut that train of thought down.
Not wanting to ask Sebastian himself about your relationship problems (as he was definitely more nosy than you’d want), you ask him, instead, if he has anything on hand about the van Goghs from the 21st century, where you both come from. At first he’s a little taken aback–you had said, “van Goghs”, and not, “Theo and Vincent”–but he quickly recovers and scribbles chapters and volumes and titles onto a sheet of paper.
(“You have it memorized?”
“Not completely, but those of relevance to the residents in the mansion, yes.”
That’s definitely more than just mere relevance, but you settle on thanking him and go find the books.)
You pore through the books with a dedication you’d never found before; the passion so strong you hardly really notice you’re doing it nearly entirely out of spite.
A book about the turn of the century has a short paragraph about the artists of the period. Gauguin (you flinch), Vincent, Toulouse-Lautrec. There’s no mention of Theo at all, much less his life. Relief floods you, but only momentarily. You put the book down.
You move to something a little closer to home: a book of influential artists across history–make a mental note to read this cover to cover the next time you have a chance to, just because of how useful it might be–and thumb to the end of the book to ‘v’ and find a short biography of Vincent. There is a mention about his having sold only a single painting while he was alive, thanks to his art-dealer brother—but then nothing else. There is no mention of his brother’s wife. You put the book down.
The last book is a biography of Vincent, lovingly annotated by Sebastian in pencil and with post-its from the future, its adhesive already giving away; you’re careful, making sure not a single one loses its place. The history fanatic has gone and marked the bits where history as you knew it diverges from the history this vampire Vincent knows. You thumb the post-it where Sebastian has written “gunshot” in his neat handwriting, carefully skimming through the page until you reach the arrow pointing at a paragraph that describes Theo’s death by what might be syphilis: worsened by the loss of his brother, weighing heavy on his shoulders, having been Vincent’s primary benefactor for the length of their lives.
The following text sears itself into your eyes.
His wife, Johanna van Gogh, worked after their deaths to establish the legacy of the van Gogh name.
You don’t really know what you’d expected to find, what you’d expected to feel when you found something, but you still are not prepared for the blow that hits you the moment you read her name.
She had no photos, no indication of anything else, but you see the beautiful woman in the gallery, so smart and proud and put-together, and you want to shrink into a small ball.
Would he be better off with her?
Well, no, because he’s left the Theo she knows, and now I have him, and she has no hold on him, you tell yourself, but your brain reminds you that you saw Theo’s expression in the young boy’s eyes and you’d caught her and Theo talking at the other end of the gallery, you just couldn’t bear to look more than the two seconds you’d seen them.
What did she tell Theo?
Did she recognize him?
What did Theo say?
What did he feel?
Why didn’t he bring this up to you?
Maybe… maybe for the same reasons you don’t bring it up to him.
Your hand, nearly on instinct, makes a move to close the book and put it away, but your heart is banging in your chest and you keep reading. Sebastian has no notes to supplement the text, just a curious “different?” written on the side; Theo has always been secretive, and it is unsurprising that the butler has been unable to unearth anything about the man’s wife. But you keep reading anyway, cautious as your mind blurs the space between history as you know it and the history you are currently living in.
You read about a night train home, Theo in a straitjacket.
You read about flowers she’d brought as a gift, and how he’d destroyed them instead.
You read about visits where he doesn’t recognize her.
You read about exhibits in Paris homes they no longer could occupy.
You read about graves.
Your heart is concrete in your chest, sinking deeper and deeper and making it hard to breathe.
You read the entire latter part of the book until there is no longer anything left to read.
Instead of full of the knowledge, the discovery, the things that make reading fun to begin with… you instead are empty, hollow. Like the text had instead carved something out of you; had taken it away.
With the vacuum of confusion sitting in your chest, you put the books back into their original places, making sure the wood keeping the wooden shelving hidden from sight is right in place.
You take the note from Sebastian and burn it on the flame of a lamp. You watch the paper slowly turns black, and drop it just before it sears your fingertips. Then you go to the garden to think.
-
Theo wanted the ability to say he didn’t go looking, but it was an urge he couldn’t really do much in resisting. Much to his—relief? delight? disappointment?—however, Johanna van Gogh-Bonger did not show up at the exhibit’s following four days. He confirms this fact with the logbooks, leather-bound and heavy, carrying his secrets, like how he inspects it so carefully now that you’re not around, when no one is left in the gallery, artists carrying out chairs and tables. It feels like a crime, the way he runs his thumb over her signature at the first page. It feels like going back.
And just like that, the exhibit closes without any other incident.
(Except it doesn’t really feel finished, not when Theo’s feels a hollow in his chest.)
He wonders what you’re doing back at home.
-
How long were they married? Was that their kid? Did Theo know? Did he choose the name? He must have, knowing him, but–
Does it make a difference about how much he loves me?
You know for a fact that the first person you should have gone to was Theo.
But you don’t, because you were too afraid to do so. Too afraid to hear the truth from him, and then maybe find something else out. Something worse. You don’t even know what that could be but it eats you up on the inside, clawing underneath your eyelids like a saltwater monster.
“Why are you looking so down, zusje?”
You hadn’t noticed Vincent coming out to the garden, lugging with him his usual art materials when he’s going out to paint. Perspective frame, canvas, a small seat, toolbox (with his brushes and paint), sketchpad, and some rouge. He also has a little gas lamp with him–so he must plan to stay out long. You’ve still yet to get used to Vincent calling you his sister.
It comes out of your mouth before it registers with you. “Can I come with you?”
“Of course,” Vincent answers after a short pause of surprise. You hadn’t answered his question, after all–and this was all so sudden. Everything is so sudden.
You take five minutes to sprint back to the mansion to tell Sebastian and to pick up a book to read before you’re walking next to Vincent. You volunteer to carry the little stool and his canvas (“it’s heavy!” “no, I swear, its not—Theo and I carry paintings all the time!”) and the two of you walk side by side. He’s on the way to the overlook, he says, to paint the city in the twilight, as night begins to fall. Now that you’re a little more knowledgeable about the art world, you get to have discussions with Vincent about art techniques, styles, and even other painters–you spend the walk to the overlook talking to each other about this and that.
It’s always lovely to lose yourself in art.
Until… you lose.
Vincent tries to steer the conversation toward talking about the exhibit, but noticing your dull half-answers, he decides not to push. He pats your head in comfort–his big-brother I’m here to listen if you need–and then returns to talking about anything else.
The both of you get to the overlook with just enough time to set up before the beautiful flaming red of twilight begins to cover the streets of Paris in a warm glow. You help Vincent set his painting materials in order and when that’s done, he helps you lay out the picnic mat he brought with him and–oh! Sebastian packed him sandwiches he eagerly offers you.
You like to watch Vincent paint. The time you’ve spent with Theo helping out with his art dealership work has definitely sharpened your senses about painting and art—and, naturally, you’ve cultivated an undeniable adoration for Vincent’s painting style as well. You’ve learned so much of art history—the Classical painters, Renaissance, the Impressionists… and you’re sure Theo is right in saying that Vincent is the genius of a new generation. Rough, and hurried, as if the moment he’s painting will disappear any second now. You’re entranced by his work. You’re entranced by him working. You don’t dare interrupt him during the process.
But when he pauses to let his paint dry a little, putting down the palette and the brush and the paint, you let your curiosity get the best of you.
“Have you ever fallen in love, Vincent?”
Like waking up from a trance, Vincent’s voice is hazy. “Me?” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
Not me, you hear, in your mind, filling the blanks.
Vincent turns to you, blond hair tussled in the wind, sky blue eyes wide in concern. “Why?”
You purse your lips.
Maybe you should have gone to Theo instead. Taking it out on his brother, this is just unfair of you, isn’t it?
“Did something happen at the exhibit?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek.
Vincent watches you pensively.
“Is it Theo?”
A tear slides down your cheek without permission, without you noticing, right to the ground. Your eyes hurt.
“I don’t want to know,” you start. “Knowing makes it harder. I wish I didn’t know.”
Confused, Vincent gets off his stool to sit on the picnic mat with you, wiping his hands on his apron. “Know about what?”
It takes all your strength to look up at Vincent.
“Tell me about Johanna?”
-
The sun’s long out of the sky when the exhibit’s egress finally finishes, paintings and chairs and tables stuffed into rented carriages and wagons to be brought back to their home in the atelier. Some of the artists are cheering and laughing, talking about planning to drink in celebration afterwards. One of them slings an arm around Theo’s shoulders, inviting him to join them.
And Theo knows—Theo knows at that exact moment what he should have done. He should have said no, I’m going with you, should have said we’ll go drinking some other time, you baiseurs. They will forgive him; they know how in love he is with you. They respect your relationship, and they will tease, but they will let him go. Theo knows he could have done better. Theo knows he should have gone home and asked to talk to you. Should have sat you down in his room, held you in his arms, and attempted to put the constricting feeling in his throat into words.
Theo knows, but he doesn’t.
Because he doesn’t have the courage to face you yet.
So instead, he goes drinking with the artists. Tries not to think of you alone to the mansion, sinking deep into the la thermae under the light of the stars, staring at yourself with that empty gaze in the mirror in his room. If you could even stomach being in his room, anymore.
He focuses on the sight in front of him: reveling in the artists’ conversations, brightened by the successful exhibit, their dreams of the future; their ambitions glimmer a fierce gold so opposite to the flickering light of the shady bar they’d landed in.
Being able to follow his own aspirations with you next to him has felt like that, so similar, to strikingly familiar in its brightness, that he’d lost himself in its light so easily, finding himself easily tripping on wisps of darkness he hadn’t imagined were growing from the source of his light itself.
And by god, I will stumble, but I will not let that stop me.
That’s what he always tells himself.
But how does one pick oneself up after this?
What does one do?
Why did this happen?
The alcohol burns a hot stripe, like a punishment, down his throat.
-
Theo comes home late that night, smelling like whiskey. You smile at him as if you hadn’t spent the better part of the day nursing the bruising parts of you. Theo kisses you goodnight and rolls over to his side, facing away.
(He hadn’t left you in your bed tonight, but with his back turned to you, you feel as hollow as that night he did.)
You let your eyes wander to the moonlight leaving streaks on the bedroom wall. You think of the woman who Theo kept coming home to. You think of children.
(“Be happy, even in somewhere I don’t know,” he had said.)
You close your eyes and dream of fireflies.
---
you are still the sun that shines for me is a 5-chapter fic that will be posted daily for the next few days! catch what else is in the atelier later on in this fic. :)
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spicycreativity · 3 years
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Re-posting this because I added an external link to my AO3 last time so Tumblr blocked it from the tags and no one saw it 🙄 Find it on AO3 under my username WizardGlick
Fear in Friendship (is an ugly trait):
5k gen PJO fusion oneshot featuring Roman, Remus, and Janus. I changed some of the rules of the PJO universe to make the story more fun to write 😊 CW for canon-typical violence, teenager-typical swearing, and one brief instance of potential ableism
Questions not answered in the narrative: Roman and Remus are children of Apollo, Janus is a child of Aphrodite. Janus' weapon is a war scythe
Three-Sentence Summary: Remus loses some blood. Janus has a No Good Very Bad day. Roman begins an illustrious career as a matador.
"Janice?" Roman asked, tilting his head at the new student Remus had brought to meet him. He was about to be late for after-school rehearsal, but Remus had come trotting up dragging the newcomer by the hand, and he'd looked so excited that Roman just couldn't bring himself to blow his brother off.
The new student glared. "Jan-US," he said, with an incredulous look at Remus, as if to say 'this idiot is your brother?' "Like the Roman god." He said it like it was obvious, like Roman was some kind of moron for not knowing. The sneering tone made Roman's blood run hot with anger and shame.
"I don't know all about that nerdy shit," Roman said, waving a hand dismissively.
Janus rolled his eyes. "Really? I would never have guessed; you seem so smart."
He was almost handsome, Roman thought, trying to study Janus' face without giving away that he was staring. He really might have been good-looking if it wasn't for the look of irritation that had been glued to his face ever since he'd entered Roman's field of vision.
A field of scarring spanned the left side of his face and traveled down his neck until the painful-looking swirl of pink and white disappeared under his high-collared shirt. The scarring itself was not necessarily unusual, just standard burn scars. What caught Roman's attention was how they just stopped, all in a straight, uniform line directly down the center of Janus' face. Almost like… Roman tried not to shudder as the thought came to him. Almost like someone had done it on purpose.
He swallowed hard and tried to get himself back on track. "Least I don't share a name with our librarian, Miss Janice."
"God, you're such a dick." Remus ran a hand through his unruly hair, shooting Roman a dark look. Roman stuck out his tongue. "Forget it." He took Janus by the wrist again and turned away. "Come on, let's go see if we can hack the vending machine."
"Oh, no you don't." Roman lunged forward, irritation coursing through him, and grabbed the top of Remus' backpack. "You're coming with me so I can keep an eye on you."
"No way!" Remus squirmed, but Roman kept his grip tight. "I don't wanna go to your stupid rehearsal."
To Roman's surprise, Janus chimed in with a keen and interested, "Rehearsal?"
"He thinks he's hot shit because he's playing Danny Zuko." Remus rolled his eyes, still trying to wiggle free of Roman's grip. "News flash, anyone can memorize lines and prance around in a leather jacket."
"So why don't you try out?" Roman asked rhetorically, starting to pull Remus down the hall.
Remus went along with it, though Roman knew full-well that he could have slipped out of his backpack and made a run for it at any time. "'Cause I'm too busy bangin'! Ba dum ch!" 
As they made their way down the hall, Janus walked beside them in silence. Roman watched him out of the corner of his eye, frowning at the way he continually glanced over his shoulder like he was expecting to get in some sort of trouble. It was a look Roman was well familiar with. He had seen it on Remus and he had worn it himself far more times than he was comfortable with. Roman and his brother seemed to attract danger wherever they went, from stalkers to muggers to one stranger's memorable attempt at running them over in the crosswalk. It was never the same person twice, and each isolated incident could be chalked up to an accident. Roman didn't like to think about it for too long and worked hard to keep Remus from talking about it. After the first mugging, Remus had sworn for weeks that their assailant had had a tail. Roman had denied it out loud, but he couldn't lie to himself. Something wasn't right.
If Janus was equally as twitchy… Was he part of it? Did he know something?
"I understand the compulsion, since I am quite good-looking," Janus said, in a tone so dry it could have drained an Olympic swimming pool, "but you'd better quit staring at me before you walk into a door."
"I spaced out," Roman said, unable to think of a snappier retort. He couldn't help but shoot Janus suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye as they continued toward the Main building. "Where'd you transfer from, anyway? How old are you?"
Janus put his hands up like a cornered criminal. "You caught me," he said, affecting regret. "I'm a 43 year-old police officer trying to track down a drug ring. Promise me you won't tell?"
"Little does he know, I'm the distributor," Remus said, finally yanking free from Roman's hold. Roman let him go, knowing that if he had stayed this long, he probably wasn't going to run off.
Roman rolled his eyes. "Very funny, J Jonah Hill. But seriously."
"I'm 16," Janus said. "I transferred from a school in New York."
"All the way from New York? How'd you end up in Florida?" Roman yanked open the door to Main and held it for Remus and Janus. He was tempted to let it drop on Remus just to watch him stumble, but found himself distracted by a gold keychain on Janus' backpack. It was nothing special, just a shiny metal Gemini symbol, but the way it caught the light made Roman pause.
"Teleported," Janus said.
"Are you allergic to straight answers, or what?" Roman asked, unamused. Janus' mocking demeanor didn't sit well with him, and something about Janus' face didn't make sense. The scars seemed almost superficial, and didn't always move in conjunction with his mouth. Roman felt stupid just thinking it, but it was almost like they were masking something.
"What crawled up your ass?" Remus demanded. He turned to Janus. "Sorry, he's not usually such an asshole. He's probably just nervous about hitting all those high notes. I heard him practicing in the shower last night and it was like someone was skinning a cat."
"I sounded awesome," Roman said, blushing furiously. He paused before the theater doors, turning his back to them so he could directly address Remus. "Go find a seat. And I swear to God, if you cause any disruptions, I'll shave your drumsticks down into toothpicks."
"Not the Vic Firths!" Remus said, gasping in faux-horror. He dismissed Roman with a wave of his hand and motioned for Janus to follow him. "C'mon, let's go see if we can catch a cockroach."
Roman just shook his head and hurried backstage.
He had a hard time focusing during rehearsal, missing cues and tripping over himself on lines he had memorized days ago. But he was too distracted to even be bothered, subtly trying to keep an eye on Remus-- okay, on Janus from his vantage point on the stage.
Roman couldn't help it. He didn't trust Janus. The haunted look in his eyes, the way he was always looking over his shoulder… Something was off.
No matter how hard he tried, Roman couldn't force himself to focus. His thoughts kept whirling until they transformed into an overwhelming sense of dread that demanded all his attention. He barely even noticed when rehearsal ended, hurrying into the seating area to try to find Remus.
He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there. Roman shouldered his backpack and strode off toward the bathrooms, trying hard not to panic. What if Janus was bad news? What if he had hurt Remus? What if Remus was lying bloody in a back corner somewhere because Roman wasn't there to protect him?
"Remus?" Roman called, checking both bathrooms. Nothing. "Shit." Where else did Remus like to go? Maybe the band room? Roman set off for it at a jog, his backpack bouncing against his back.
Nothing in the band room. Roman tried the handle anyway, just to confirm that it was locked.
"I'm going to kill him," Roman muttered, stalking off toward the football field. He swung by the vending machines on the way just in case, and came up empty. It had to be the football field, then. Remus had been talking about playing with the tackle dummies for weeks. That had to be it.
Roman forced himself to slow down as he approached the football field, not wanting Remus to know how badly he'd been freaking out. Of course Remus was there, doing cartwheels on the turf while Janus sat and watched.
"I told you not to leave!" Roman said, marching up to the pair of them.
"You didn't," Janus said, smirking. Roman glared at him. In the sun, his scars seemed to fade for a moment, revealing only the slightest hint of… green? Roman shook his head. It must have been the light reflecting off the turf. Janus continued, "You only said to find a seat and not cause any disruptions."
"I was gonna release a cockroach onto the stage and see if I could get it to go up your pants leg," Remus said, falling out of a cartwheel and landing on his back. "But Janus convinced me not to."
"You're welcome," Janus said.
Roman couldn't help but stare at him. His scars flickered in and out in the sunlight, the dark brown of his left eye flashing yellow. "Remus, get behind me," Roman said, deadly serious.
"What?" Remus lifted his head. "Why?"
Roman didn't answer, stepping between his brother and Janus. "What are you?" he demanded.
Janus' eyes widened before a look of realization crossed his face. "I'm a friend," he said in a silky, almost crooning tone. "You can trust me."
"He's a friend," Remus repeated. "Why are you being so weird?"
A sense of calm slid over Roman for half a second before he snapped out of it. "What are you?" he repeated, stepping forward into Janus' personal space. Now that he was looking for it, he could see it clear as day: Janus was half-snake. His entire left half was covered in dull green scales, and a slit pupil neatly bisected the sickly yellow of his left eye.
Janus put up his hands. "You're stronger than Remus," he said, almost to himself.
Roman grabbed him by the collar. "You have 30 seconds to explain what's going on."
"Look," Janus said. "You know you're not normal, right?"
"Bad start," Roman said, making a show of cocking his fist back. He'd never hit anyone in his life, save the occasional thrown elbow in wrestling matches with Remus. Should he go for the jaw? The eye?
"You have an absent parent, you get in trouble a lot, you've been in a lot of one-off dangerous situations that you can't really explain," Janus rattled off like he was reciting from a memorized list. "You're dyslexic, you make things happen like magic. Stop me when this sounds familiar."
"Some of those things, maybe," Roman said. Remus was dyslexic and they'd both had their fair share of dangerous run-ins. Distantly, he thought he heard the overlapping thumps of several car doors shutting. "What does that have to do with you?"
"You aren't human," Janus said.
"You aren't human," Roman shot back.
Janus rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Okay, look. You're the only one who can see my real face, right? Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know!" Roman said. Distracted, he let go of Janus' shirt. "What are you saying?"
"I'm trying to say that-- Okay, you know what? Let's just rip the blindfold off like a Band-Aid, sure!" Janus gave a hysterical-sounding laugh. "You're a demigod. You're both demigods."
Roman scoffed, unsure of exactly what else to say. A million questions raced through his mind, punctuated by that slamming car door sound again. What was that, anyway? He backed away from Janus and nearly stepped on Remus, who grabbed him by the ankle and bit. "You can stop harassing my friend now, you neurotic weirdo."
"Look at him!" Roman said. He bent down and hauled Remus to his feet, and was immediately distracted by a mechanical-sounding hissing and creaking. "I'm sorry, does anyone else hear a broken washing machine?"
"Whoa!" said Remus. "You're a snake!”
"I am not," Janus said.
Roman spun around, still searching for the source of the noise. It came into view a moment later and he froze for half a second, eyes widening. "Uhh, guys?" he said, backing up despite himself. He kept his gaze locked onto the massive copper bull that was striding directly at the fencing surrounding the football field, radiating heat that warped the air around it.
"What the heck is that?" Remus asked in obvious fascination.
"Listen," Janus said, his voice strangely calm. In the corner of his eye, Roman could just make out Janus as he removed his backpack and yanked the gold Gemini keychain off the zipper. "You need to get to my car. It's the blue Kia Soul parked by the main entrance."
In the distance, the bull backed up and smashed its way through the fence with a horrible clanging sound.
"Is that thing gonna try to kill us?" Remus asked.
The bull meandered closer, looking as nonchalant as a massive metal bull could. Roman fought the urge to back up, to grab Remus by the hand and get the hell out of dodge. "Why isn't it attacking?"
"It probably hasn't seen us yet," Janus said. He sounded as calm as ever, but Roman didn't miss the frantic rise and fall of his chest. "Walk off," he said. "Slowly."
"What about you?" Roman demanded.
Janus spun the keychain around his finger. The metal gleamed in the sun and lengthened into something Roman didn't recognize: a long metal pole with a half-moon blade at the end. "I'll hold it off."
"You can't seriously think--" Roman started, but the bull looked up and started to charge and the words died on his lip as raw panic choked out his rational thought 
"Run!" Janus ordered. "Blue Kia Soul. Meet me there!"
Roman shrugged out of his backpack, grabbed Remus by the wrist and sprinted.
"Are you crazy?" Remus shouted. "We can't just leave him!"
"No shit!" Roman shouted back, still dragging Remus along. "We need weapons or something!"
"Hurdles," Remus said, veering off to the side.
Roman nearly tripped and was forced to let go of Remus’ hand. He wanted to argue, but there was very little of potential use on the field. The tackle dummies and tires left out by the football team were far too heavy for them to move. The track hurdles were the only things even remotely useful. Remus grabbed one and started hauling it back toward the fray, and Roman was quick to follow suit. He didn't want Remus going in first if he could help it.
The hurdle was unwieldy and made his hands ache, but he barely noticed, too wrapped in not tripping while he watched Janus in a state of adrenaline-riddled horror.
By some miracle, Janus wasn't dead. In fact, to Roman's puzzlement, he sort of looked like he knew what he was doing. More or less. He held his weapon with confidence and kept his center of gravity low. The bull seemed to have no other strategy than to aim itself at a target and charge, allowing Janus to dodge every time. Unfortunately, it seemed he could only dodge, as the long handle of his weapon, whatever it was, didn't allow for quick maneuvers.
They were locked in a stalemate, and it was pretty much a guarantee that Janus was going to tire out. He was already breathing heavily, keeping his moments sparing and conservative.
Then Remus came flying in and Roman could only watch as his brother flung the track hurdle with wild abandon. "Die!"
"I told you to run!" Janus shouted, barely audible over the clanging of the bull kicking furiously to try to dislodge its back legs from the hurdle
"We'll run after we finish saving your ass," Roman said. The bull's head swiveled between the two of them, as Remus was still behind it, and Roman swore he saw a spark of intelligence in its molten-metal eyes. Without any sort of warning, it kicked Remus in the chest and took off at a dead sprint for Janus again.
For a split second, Roman was paralyzed. Remus hit the ground hard and rolled and lay still; Janus stood frozen with guilt written all over his face.
"Move!" Roman shouted, already formulating a plan. If he could get the hurdle underfoot while the bull was charging, it might trip, allowing Janus enough time to… stab it or slash it or whatever his weapon was supposed to be good for.
Janas sidestepped again and dashed forward. He glared at Roman, too winded to speak.
"I need you to draw its attention again," Roman said, glancing at the bull. It left deep gouges in the artificial grass where it stopped, and the rubber smoked from the sheer heat it put out. It turned and pawed the ground. "And I swear to God, if you let it get to Remus again, I will end you."
"Like it was my fault," Janus panted, already in motion. He backed up, careful to step away from Remus. Lacking any spare fabric to wave, he threw his free arm out and shouted, "It's me that you want."
He used the same silken, commanding tone he'd tried on Roman earlier. Roman made a mental note to ask him about that when they weren't in the middle of a death match.
The bull charged. Roman threw the hurdle. Then everything went to Hell.
The bull did trip as Roman had intended, but it had so much momentum that it kept thundering toward Janus as it stumbled and scrabbled for balance on the melting rubber chips. A wayward hoof caught Janus in the ankle and knocked him flat, practically right underneath its massive chest. He gave a shout and dropped his weapon, and Roman realized with a feeling of sinking dread that it must have been too hot to touch.
Well, there went that.
He needed a new plan and he needed it now. Already the bull was finding its footing and turning its fiery glare on Roman.
Roman charged it, feeling more like Remus' brother than he had ever had before. "Die!" He rolled forward and grabbed Janus' weapon, barely noticing the heat that seared into his palms-- He didn't have time for pain or panic. Spotting a crack in the metal plating on the bull's back, Roman aimed the blade and shoved. The bull shuddered and Janus shouted something, but Roman had no room for thoughts more complex than kill, protect, kill, protect. He shoved and shoved until the bull gave a final hiss and went still, until sweat poured into his eyes and he could no longer keep them open, until the metal shaft of Janus' weapon snapped under his hand.
"Remus!" Janus shouted. 
That got Roman's attention. He left Janus half-pinned under the steaming body of the bull and dashed for Remus' prone form.
He was already starting to sit up and self-assess, touching the back of his head and studying his bloodied fingers with an unsettling blank expression.
"Are you okay?" Roman asked.
Remus blinked hard, stared at him. "Is it dead?"
"Yeah, it's dead."
"Where's Janus?"
Roman frowned and looked behind him. Janus had extracted himself from the wreckage of the bull and was kneeling and wiping the sweat off his face. "Remus is asking for you," Roman said, trying not to let his bitterness show in his voice.
"You broke my scythe," Janus said, not moving.
"You could thank me for saving your life," Roman shot back, half-forgetting Remus.
"That was my best weapon! Now all I have is this stupid knife."
"Are you coming over or not?"
"I can't." Janus glared at Roman. "Somebody dropped a two-ton Colchis bull on me and shattered my ankle in the process."
"But did you die?"
"Can you stop yelling?" Remus murmured, burying his face in his hands.
Roman stared at him, heart hammering with renewed fear. "Are you okay?"
"I just want to go home."
"You can't," Janus said. Roman glared at him, but he continued without acknowledging it, "It's not safe. The monsters know about you now. You have to come with me."
"And why the Hell would we do that?" Roman demanded. "You almost got us killed!"
Remus peeked over the tops of his fingers. "I don't think it was his fault, Roman."
"Thanks for the backup, bro." Roman rolled his eyes and turned to address Janus again. "Why should we trust you?"
The look Janus gave him could have burned a hole in titanium. "Hm, let's see. Who has all the answers? Who just tried to save your ungrateful ass? Think hard now, Roman, don't be afraid to phone a friend."
"I get it, I get it." Roman got to his feet, surprised at how stiff and sore he already felt. He extended a hand to Remus only to yelp in sudden agony when Remus tried to grab on. He turned his hands over and found both palms bright red and shiny with small blisters on the centers. He offered Renus his forearm instead, and steadied him as he swayed. "You okay?"
"Super," Remus wheezed. "Fucking peachy. I got kicked right in the tit by a steampunk rodeo bull and busted my head open on the single rock in this entire field of soft-ass rubber chips. Can't wait to tell Mom."
"Shit!" Roman said. "Mom!" Realization hit a moment later-- she was out of town for a few days at some big-shot surfing exposition, no kids allowed.
"She's in for a nasty surprise."
"Very nasty," Janus said, "unless your godly parent warned her ahead of time. Is anyone going to help me up?" Roman forced himself to compartmentalize. One thing at a time. Remus seemed steady enough on his feet, so Roman stepped over to help Janus up. He couldn't seem to put any weight on his right ankle and clamped onto Roman's shoulder when he tried to step away. "You have two options," Janus said, "help me walk, or grab my keys and bring the car around-- Oh." He looked away, horror dawning in his face, and Roman followed his gaze to see what he was staring at. 
"Let me guess," he said, examining the still-smoking remains of Janus' backpack. "They keys were in there?"
"The keys, my wallet, miscellaneous demigod survival crap. You know, nothing too important."
"I'll go see what I can find." Roman let Janus drop, privately amused by the undignified cry he gave out upon hitting the ground. 
Janus' black Nike backpack had melted and fused with the rubber chips on the turf. Roman poked the mess with the tip of his toe and found it cool enough to touch for short periods, so he knelt and did his best to sort through what was left.
The Kia keys had miraculously survived, although the remote was unusable and the lanyard was nothing more than a pile of ash and melted orange polyester fibers. It sent flames of agony all across his palms, but Roman managed to extricate the car key and a few strange golden coins. He ignored the remains of a few Ziploc bags, but examined the orange Hydroflask with a critical eye. It had a hole in it, but whatever it had once held had a peculiar smell that cut through the stench of burning rubber and made Roman feel strangely at ease. It smelled like fresh-squeezed orange juice, and he could have sworn he caught a hint of guava and vanilla, like the nonalcoholic punch his mom made for the kids when she was hosting parties.
"Take your time," Janus called, pulling Roman back to reality.
Roman flipped him off, and it hurt like his hand was on fire, but it was worth it. Now that the adrenaline was well and truly gone, he just felt sick and wrung-out, and not at all in the mood to deal with Janus' ill temper.
"Got the keys," Roman said, turning around. "And these weird arcade tokens."
"Those are drachma."
"That's funny," Remus said, in a voice that was still much too quiet and calm for Roman's liking, "I thought they were ligma."
"Oh my God," Roman muttered.
"What?" said Janus, eyeing Remus with concern.
"Ligma nuts!" Remus said.
After a long silence, that Roman supposed was meant to restore some sense of dignity, Janus said, "Good to know you're not dying."
"So are we leaving or what?" Roman asked, jangling the keys.
Janus nodded, and gestured for Roman to help him up.
Roman was sure they looked ridiculous as they hobbled across the football field. Roman, who was the least injured, had to support half of Janus' weight as he limped along, and Remus kept getting lightheaded and grabbing Roman's other shoulder for balance. At least Remus was able to carry his and Roman's backpacks, though it slowed him down considerably. 
Roman was winded when they finally reached the parking lot, his shoulders and obliques screaming in protest at the awkward position he'd held for so long.
"Can you drive?" Janus asked when they'd reached the Kia and he could finally let go of Roman.
"Uh, I have my learner's permit."
Janus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let me rephrase that: You're going to have to drive."
"Where to?"
"New York."
"New York?" Roman repeated. "Are you crazy? Why New York?"
"I'll explain on the way," Janus said, "but we really need to get out of here."
"Fine." Roman helped Janus into the passenger seat and then lifted Remus into the back so he could sprawl across the seats. His head had stopped bleeding on its own, but since they hadn't paused to apply any pressure, blood had dripped down his neck and dried on the collar of his shirt. "I don't suppose you have any first aid stuff?"
Janus yanked open the glove compartment and rattled off the contents. "Manual, registration, Taco Bell napkins, tire pressure gauge, plastic baggie full of mystery pills, novelty Medusa PEZ dispenser, Mapquest directions to the Lotus Hotel, titanium spork."
"Those are Aleve," Remus said, poking his head between the seats. "Can I have about 20?"
"You can have two," Roman said, snatching the bag of Janus' hands. His own fingers were stiff and clumsy and flared up with pain every time he tried to use them, but he couldn't deny the increasing compulsion to be in charge. He had to fix it for Remus, he had to make it better, he had to keep them safe--
"Like, now, or…?" Remus said.
"Sorry." Roman distributed the pills, then passed around his water bottle. "Okay," he said, struggling with the cap while Janus watched with a cool eye. "So, uh. Now I just have to drive to New York. With messed up hands."
"It helps if you get in the car," Janus drawled.
Roman said nothing, but as he walked around to the driver's side, he made a silent vow to hit as many potholes as he could.
"Road trip!" Remus crowed once Roman was seated. "Hey, Roman, how much money do you have?"
"I dunno," Roman said, trying to focus on backing out while only holding the wheel with his fingertips. "Like 20 bucks. You're the one with the backpacks, why don't you count?"
"I get to go through your stuff?" Remus asked, clapping his hands in delight. 
"Just don't steal my good pens or I'll kill you." Roman put the car in drive and lurched forward.
"Accelerate with your toes," Janus said.
"No backseat driving."
"I'm not in the backseat."
"Keep running your mouth and I'll strap you to the roof." Roman turned up the radio before Janus could reply. He'd had enough; his hands hurt, his body ached, he was terrified. He couldn't deal with any more snark and attitude.
He took the on-ramp for I-75 North and started to sing, first to himself and then louder as traffic increased and he got nervous. In the corner of his eye, he could see Janus double-checking all their blind spots, peering in the rear view mirror, fidgeting with his seat belt.
It didn't help Roman's nerves any. He kept singing with the radio, privately grateful that it was already set to a pop station. He noticed two things at once as he switched lanes to let a bright red Maserati blow past him: First, a bone-deep exhaustion that left him so dizzy he nearly swerved onto the shoulder. Second, his hands no longer hurt.
He took one off the wheel and glanced at it, shocked to find the skin as smooth as if it had never been damaged at all.
"Did you do that?" Roman demanded, sparing a glance at Janus.
"What, make you hit the rumble strip? No, that was all you."
"My hands," Roman said impatiently. "They're better. Look!" He showed his palm to Janus, then to Remus.
"Lucky," Remus said. "I feel like somebody pushed me off a 69-story building."
"Nice," said Roman, unable to help himself.
Janus just rolled his eyes and turned back to face the road.
"So how about those answers now?" Roman asked, stifling a yawn behind his hand.
Janus nodded. "But no interrupting. If you don't believe me after everything you've seen, that's on you for being an idiot."
"Who said I was going to interrupt?" Roman said.
Janus looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. "Oh, I just have a feeling."
"We can be quiet," Roman said. He turned the radio off and sat back as much as he could without losing his grip on the wheel.
"Super quiet," Remus agreed. "Silent but deadly."
"Alright," said Janus. "The Greek gods are real. You're the children of one of them."
Roman pressed his lips together, determined not to make a sound. He kept silent as they continued to crawl down I-75 in rush hour traffic and Janus elaborated about gods and monsters and mythology.
It wasn't until the sun was well and truly down, until Janus had gone silent, until it was too late for it to matter, that Roman even realized he had been the victim of reverse psychology.
He scowled and doubled down on his vow to hit as many potholes as possible. Whether Janus was telling the truth or not, Roman didn't like him.
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imtryingthisout · 4 years
Text
Of Flames and Fire: Prologue
[If you hate me for writing this, just remember I hate myself more and that this began because of a joke.]
Warnings: Ask to Tag
Word Count: 3627
Fandom: Disney Descendants
*************************************************
Dirt clung to the fringes of Maleficent’s robes as she descended deeper into the cavernous warren. Once upon a time her presence would have struck such fear that not even the dust mites would have dared come near her, but such a time was over now, and now the endings of her black cloak grew more and more soiled with every step she took.
She held a twisted candelabra in one hand and her faithful staff in the other. The small flame burned a deep rouge color, more red than yellow, with how thick and low the air had become. Maleficent was surprised it still burned at all. She was thankful for the candle’s valiant effort. Gone were the days where she could summon a ball of hellfire to illuminate the room, and with all the dust and filth in the air she wasn't sure her darkvision would be of any use.
A drop of hot wax struck her fingers.
Maleficent continued onwards.
As she ventured closer and closer to her destination, the sound of barking began to ring in her ears. Viscous growls, the sound of teeth hitting teeth, shrieks and yelps and oh so much barking. Were she a lesser soul it might have frightened her, or at the very least given her a pause, but she knew that no dog (three headed or otherwise) lived down here, just a lonely master trying to cope with the sound of silence.
(Out of everything her new prison tormented her with, Maleficent never thought she would grow to loathe the quiet. The silence. Even on the Forbidden Mountain she would hear the rustling of wind, the roaring cacophony of her minion’s delight, the sound of Diablo’s deep cawing. But here, even with the tumult of the budding city of thieves and villains, her thoughts screamed louder than any noise. Here she felt more alone than she ever did atop her ruined castle.)
No door was mounted to the cave’s wall, it would be far too impractical to do so, so Maleficent raised a curved fist and knocked thrice on a wooden post instead. “Who is it?” a voice called out from lower in the room, it sounded irritated and gruff, good. Maleficent smiled “Just a passing visitor Lord Hades”.
Quicker than she thought possible, the exiled Monarch of the Underworld stood leaning against the doorframe, one arm draped over the rotten wood and his head tilted with a school boy smile (if a school boy had eyes of glowing brimstone and thorny rows of sharp teeth protruding from his gums). “Why Miss Maleficent, what brings you to my little.. home away from home?”
She took a moment to drink in his sight, he looked more or less the same as he did when they first met, a little more tired, maybe, a little less put together, thick silver-colored cuffs bound round his wrists to drain his godly might. Still something about him seemed different, she couldn't quite place her finger on it, then she met his gaze. “Kohl around the eyes, Lord Hades? I do hope you aren't going Egyptain on me”
He snorted and rolled his- yes, black lined- eyes “Nah those guys are great, but they sure as Me don’t need another Death God. Besides- Blue Hair? Blue Skin? It’s already confusing enough for mortals to get us mixed up at parties, and don't even get me started on the Ptolemaic Pantheon menagerie, cultural syncretism is fun and all but all that rewriting and re-rewriting and who’s who even got my head more turned around than the gordian knot!”
Here Hades stood taller than Maleficent, even with his slumped posture and hunched back. The slope of the floor was curved in his favor. Her horns were a brandished crown growing, twisting, above her head and barely scraping the stone above her.
She let the humor linger in the air for a breath before speaking. “I have a proposition for you, my lord” she said while dismissing the candle and setting it down on a rock ledge. The light from Hades’ hair and lair would suffice to brighten her vision. Maleficent raised a free arm “Shall we continue our conversation inside? I feel it would be awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” Hades’ smile grew wider, almost splitting his face in two.
“My dearest disgrace to all things dignified, it would be my pleasure” He said, taking her arm and leading her inside. Despite herself she snorted. “My lord I am always dignified, it is deferential which I am not”
Hades’s new domain lay deep underground in the heart of the Isle. Despite his many years of hatred of being saddled with the burden of the Underworld, the room appeared very similar to his old home. ‘Perhaps that is the point’, Maleficent thought, wondering if his new dwelling was really of Hades’ choosing, or did he simply wake up on the Isle in a room modeled after his old kingdom, swapping an old prison for a new one. She wasn’t sure if Zeus had it in him...but Zeus wasn't the only one hurt by Hades’ failed machinations, and she knew that Hera certainitly did, fondness for her older brother or not- the Queen of Gods would not have hesitated to rub salt in any wounds of her child’s stealer. Especially when such irony would have been involved.
In another life, perhaps it would have been Hera who Maleficent would be conversing with, she did always have a healthy respect for the Golden Throned Goddess,like draws to like afterall, and there is nothing more similar yet individual than women with power.
Then again, in another life she wouldn't need to bargain, in another life she would have crushed Prince Phillip’s sword between her teeth and swallowed him whole, in another life she would have blessed the infant Princess with a gift of her own, something clever and far more powerful than any of the Three Sisters trivial delights. In another life---
Hades leads her to a sitting area, long tatham benches set interlocking with one another, made of dark ebony wood. Maleficent gathers the excess of her robe in her grip and takes a seat, then slowly lets the fabric flow down and unfurl on the clean gray floor. The Lord of the Dead seats himself next to her, and after a moment’s pause, she allows him to wrap one of his hands around her waist.
“I have come to reclaim my debt, Your Majesty” she begins, he laughs and jokes “I’m not a accountant dollface, you’ll have to be more specific. I think I still got some styx-water sloshing around in my skull” but she can see the tightness around his eyes, the stiffness in his fingers as he cleans his ear and flicks a droplet of water over his shoulder, he knows exactly what she is referring to. He also knows that his newfound lack of power might have put him in a very precarious situation. Maleficent smiles sharply.
The grip on her waist tightens.
“Then let me help to restart your memory, years ago you needed an elixir that would turn anything, even a God, mortal. I concocted such a potion on the clause that you would… how did you say it? ‘Owe me one bigtime mama '’” she said drolling her words and making air quotations with her slender fingers. The God of The Dead had the decency to look sheepish, a bright blue blush blooming under his siltstone skin. “Okay yeah might’ve been a bit drunk on success when I said that…”
“Mmhmm” Maleficent hummed, raising a single eyebrow.
“....sorry”
“In any case, a deal is a deal, and now I see to collect my end of our bargain”
“It would be my pleasure my lovely lady of labilzation--” “that one was better” “Thank you I do try, --- however I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that, unlike before, I no longer have the Underworld and all its resources at my disposal to grant your dark heart’s deepest desire-- “Lord Hades are you implying I ever had a heart to begin with?” “ Ha ha no. But you do have desires that our current predicament might limit me from fulfilling”
“And you do hate to leave your women unfulfilled, don’t you Hades?”
“Yes I- HEY” Hades began with his usual smooth inflection, not even really looking at her, before cutting himself on and standing up in outrage. Face pinched and flushed. He started pacing back and forth in front of her while Maleficent looked on in cruel delight. He was yammering about something, going on about respect and proper dues and getting wonderfully worked up about himself. It almost made her nostalgic.
“I mean I know I’m no roving casanova like dear little Zeus-y, Persphone would gut me for even trying that and--”
Then his body stilled and he turned to face her, running his hands through his hair to gather his thoughts. Pity, she was enjoying she show. “Alright I get it, playtimes over. What do you want Maleficent? What under this damned barrier could be so important that you need to cash in on?”
“You and I both know Lord Hades that there are forces far older and far more powerful than this Godmother’s little trick. Deals, oaths, dept, magic sworn by magic will be repaid in turn. ” Maleficent raised herself slowly, taking small measured steps to where Hades stood shadowed by the cavern’s light. “As for what I want? That's simple, I want your name”
Name, she hissed out the word, the word that had churned and boiled somewhere deeper than her stomach and rose up her throat, that fell down her tongue and turned sharp and low against her teeth. The word that made her eyes flash with a power that no well intentioned Godmother or once cursed King could contain.
The word that made the Lord of the Dead, Hades himself, fall stumbling backwards to his knees. The shadow wrenched away from him in haste, revealing his wide eyes and- oh how she missed this- positively wreaked expression. If she was someone else she would say he was nervous, his face too numb to be fearful, but Maleficent knew better. He was terrified.
Pleas spilt from his lips like ambrosia in a clumsy hand. He was almost begging her now, with more fervor than he ever begged before--
( In times of old when the earth was freshly taken and the sky still red with titan’s blood, three brothers gathered to divide the cosmos between themselves. The youngest made his claim to the sky and took it’s child, the mighty thunderbolt, as his symbol. He gifted the sea to the middle brother who accepted it glady, but to the oldest he gave no pearl-rich land or magnificent heaven, but the burden of the damned and dead. The darkest corners of the world, where no light reached and the wild souls wandered aimlessly in the eternal darkness. His older brother objected, of course, and perhaps he even set aside his pride to grovel, but the youngest was unyielding. )
“Please Mali, don’t, not that I’ll do anything--”
( Once Ra fell sick from a clay snake bite, and called a council of every man and women and God to come and aid him, but they could do nothing. Then he called for Isis, for surely she would have the answers to his prayers. “What ever you need, I will provide” And so Isis said to the sun god Ra, ‘Great king of The Heavens and all we hold dear, the venom in your blood is much too strong, the only way I can heal you is with the knowledge of your Name’. So Ra listed off all of his titles and epithets, of which he had many, but Isis was not deterred. ‘My Lord and King, though those names are as grand and great as you are, they are not the one of which I refer to. If you wish to continue as yourself, ruler of the Gods, I will need your Rem to cure you’ said Isis and Ra knew she spoke the truth. Banishing the other medicine men and healers from the room he took Isis into his wings and bared to her the fifth of his soul, the name in which all his power sprang from. Isis took the name and healed Ra, feeling the universe realign with her at its helm, Goddess above Gods, of life and moon and medicine and magic. The fruits of her cunning rewarded hundredfold. And she smiled.)
“-- you don't want that old thing, I mean, what would you even do with my name anyway? It’s not like it would be of any use to you here”
“That, Your Majesty, is where you are wrong.” Maleficent slammed the end of her staff on top of the end of Hades’ robe, catching him in place as he tried to flinch backwards. She knelt before him, his back arched so completely he resembled more of a semicircle than a fallen God, his body so small here compared to hers. The long tendrils of her cloak sprawled themselves across the floor, their edges slithering like snakes, writhing and engulfing them, Hades was a cold star trapped amidst a sea of dark fabric.
“You asked me what could be so important to me that I would risk claiming my due of our agreement here, under this hell forsaken barrier. Why would I step into the limelight after years of isolation to rule an island of filth and trash” she pressed a single nail to his face tilting it up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Because here is where my child will be born, and no blood of mine will be powerless while I still live to conquer and provide”
Her child, who was barely an weight in her arms, hungry for magic where there was none, hungry for food unrotten and drink unspoiled. If Maleficent was kinder she would crush it’s skull beneath her feet and spare it from a life full of pain and longing. Years of torment and clawing at it’s own skin spared in a moment’s decision.
(Her child, who could one day release their Mother from her prison, if they had will to do so.)
Maleficent had never been a kind person.
She did, however, on the seldom occlusion, know mercy and how to manipulate the unwilling. She could just rip his name from his chest, leave him broken and shivering on the cold stone floor. The thought was tempting, it really had been too long since she last had the chance to destroy someone so thoroughly, but she knew it would be better in the long run if she could get Hades to cooperate. Never let it be said she wasn’t a patient Mistress.
Leaning her weight forward she gingerly took one of Hades’ wrists in her hand, turning it over and carefully inspecting the thick band that now encircled it . This close she could feel the way it softly vibrated under her touch, the binding sigils carved so delicately and deep into the metal.
Her skin burned on contact, but you would never tell by her expression, eyes trained on the way Hades’ life force flowed. Faint traces of his magic traveling down his veins and funneling into the band, which would pulse slightly and constrict, the sigils would glow and hold, before loosening its too tight grip on its host. Then the cycle would continue anew.
It was one of the most brilliantly constructed and horrid devices Maleficent had ever laid her eyes on.
It was a work of art.
And as she read the runes she began to recognize what artist could have made such a beautiful thing.
“Do you know just how luck you are Lord Hades? While the rest of us villains must serve a penance that will span the rest of our days, you sit here with shackles holding only until you meet their requirements. I always wondered why Auradon would risk the order of the world just to fulfill their pallid sense of morality, and here my questions are answered. It seems the true nature of your punishment is far more poetic than a measly imprisonment, no, the true keys to your freedom lay in siring a child,”
A cold sense of realization dawned on Hades, “Hera” he whispered.
“How does the saying go again? An eye for an eye.” Maleficent pushed her nail deeper into the skin of his arm “A lost babe for a lost babe.”
Something inside Hades’ eyes broke at her words, and he begun laughing, freely, manic not maniacal, the laugh of a man who knew the entire cosmos was a joke and now he finally got the punchline. “Oh Hera!” He cried out, gathering the shattered pieces of himself and pulling them together.
He stood up from underneath her, fluid as smoke escaping from her grasp, as if his body was still atmos and ichor- not confined to rigid flesh and blood. ( A distant part of Maleficent imagines Hades, stumbling and impaling his head against a stalagmite as he has to relearn how to walk again, learn how to live in a body so forign yet familiar.) He did not offer to help her, and she made no move to rise, instead she remained sitting, her back ramrod straight and hands folded across her staff which rested on her lap.
Over the sounds of running water and the everpresent barking, Maleficent could hear the sounds of his brain work. Spinning gears within gears furiously trying to take in the new information and generate a more beneficial outcome for himself. “Alright, you want my name, you want power, you want little Maleficent Junior to grow up with magic, which I can’t blame you for. I want to get out of here and I want my wife not to kill me on my arrival, so I propose a solution that just might work for us both”
“Go on”
“ gift part of my name to the little tyke, giving them- and by extension you- power that not even this blasted barrier can suppress. That means that in the eyes of magic, I’m basically your baby’s daddy”
“And are you willing to uphold that responsibility? I have no need for a husband nor a housekeeper, but both dragons and fae are known for their possessiveness and of them I am both”
Hades didn't miss a blink, shark toothed smiled fixed back in place on his face “My magnificent Mistress of Misery from now until my chains are unfettered and I am called away to return to my Iron throne, I do swear to treat your little demonspawn as if they were born from the rotten fruit of my loins. Now, do we have an agreement?” Now he looked down at her, hand extended for her to shake. “Going once… going twice..”
Maleficent leapt forward, her hand digging deep into the weak flesh of his arm, she used to movementum to pull herself close to him, nose to nose, sharpened teeth to sharpened teeth, her horns haloing her head- two blackened crests protruding from her skull that reflected the dull blue light of the room. “Its a deal” she declared. Smiling viscously as she felt her eyes flare, not gold, but green, green as burning hellflame, fire in its purest form.
If this were anywhere else but The Isle of The Lost, thunder would crack at their declaration, a ring of light would maifest around their grip sealing their oath in color and magic. The air would ignite at their words. However, this was The Isle, and so the only illumination of fate’s rearrangement came from the flicker of light on Hades’ wrists as the runes surged, the taste of copper under Maleficent’s tongue, and the deep bone-seated feeling that something big will come. This was the stone whose ripple will cause the wave years down the line.
Maleficent hoped it would rise and drown the whole world.
She almost smiled at the thought.
---------------------------------------
---------------------------------------
“Huh”
“What?”
“You know when you said you had a baby, I kinda pictured- you know- a baby”
“I do hope you aren't talking bad about our child, it hasn't even hatched yet”
“Maleficent thats not a child, thats an egg”
“You think I would birth a infant mammal? Don’t be so crude, egg laying is a much more civilized method of reproduction”
“Wait does that make you a reptile? Oh sweet Zeus don’t tell me you are? What can you unhinge your jaw? Do you have a hemi--”
“Silence your tongue Lord Hades before I cut it out myself”
“Sorry sweetcheeks I couldn't resist”
“....”
“...sorry”
“Now traditionally Mother and Daughter would pass on a portion of their name until the time came where the Daughter earned to full title of Maleficent, usually by slaying their Mother and taking her name for herself. Until that day a middle name would serve as a placeholder to help differentiate them, a Mal Bertha or Mal Lamia or something of the sort. If you are giving up one of your titles, perhaps Mal Aidoneus would suffice?”
“Yeah, no”
“No?”
“Listen, Fairy G’s little parasite pocket is going to hone in on quote the name of the “The Mistress of All Evil” like a cyclopes at a half-off everything sunglass sale. You want this kid to have even a smidgen of a chance we gotta change it up a bit.”
“Well then Your Majesty I don’t suppose you have any better Ideas”
“........Malenthea”
“Hm?”
“Her name, it will be Malenthea”
“Then so mote it be”
“....”
“....”
“HOLY RHEA YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE EGG WOULD EXPLODE--”
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drummergirl231-2 · 4 years
Note
If HDL's father ever did come back to his family's lives, do you imagine how awkward and complicated it would be? There would be the issues from Della having to adjust since she may not even have romantic feelings for him anymore (given how it's been 11-12 years) to the triplets having a worse time adjusting to his presence than Della's especially since Donald already served as their dad for years (And it is gonna be weird seeing Donald and HDL's father being father figures together).
Aw shoot dang I’ve got a whole AU like you don’t even know. XD It sprouted off this speculative post I made about HDL’s father possibly being a F.O.W.L. agent that the Buzzards sent in to spy on Scrooge by getting close to Della, but then he wanted out because he fell in love with Della for real. In this scenario, the Buzzards kidnap him and freeze him in whatever Rockerduck is currently frozen in after they realize his loyalties shifted.
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I don’t think it’ll go like this in the show, but in my AU, the family eventually finds him frozen in whatever-it-is. Della screams when they stumble across him in a F.O.W.L. base. As far as she knew, the guy just totally abandoned her for absolutely no reason, and it never made sense to her. But as betrayed as she felt for his leaving, she needed answers, and she wasn’t going to get them just leaving him there, so she unfroze him and she, Scrooge, and Donald (who was fighting the urge to punch him in the gut every step of the way) get him out of there.
Can you imagine the horror on his side of things? He was a newlywed. He was happy. He was going to tell F.O.W.L. he was done being their spy. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up from being frozen in something and Della’s there but she’s walking on a prosthesis and he immediately knows he’s been gone for at least several months and Della went through quite the ordeal without him (but like, he has no flippin’ idea...).
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Eventually in some heart-wrenching scene or scenes he finds out he was gone for about or nearly twelve years, and not only that, but he and Della had had triplet boys. He had wanted to quit F.O.W.L. to devote himself to his new family (Della, Donald, and Scrooge) and eventually, any children he and Della would have. He and Della had talked about raising a big family together but now he finds out he missed everything.  
And his wife of only a few short months doesn’t even want him to touch her. He’s a good guy and all. He respects Della and the last thing he wants is to make her feel guilty for how she feels or pressure her into anything. But it’d still be difficult for him when to him it feels like he and Della were living in newlywed bliss only a day or two ago. And even though he’s being totally respectful with Della, she still feels guilty, imagining what he must be going through. 
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She tells herself it’s all his fault anyway and she doesn’t owe him anything, but after they fly him to Mervana and interrogate him in front of the harp, and she hears the whole story, and the harp confirms it all and Della knows he really does love her with all his heart... she can’t help but feel guilty for keeping him at arm’s length. And he feels guilty that she feels guilty. It breaks his heart even more, but he tells her it’s okay and she can take as much time as she needs to process all this.
Scrooge orders him to sleep in the spare room of Donald’s houseboat until he can get a lawyer’s opinion on whether or not the marriage is still valid. After all, they were both pretty much presumed dead for over a decade. Old Victorian Scrooge basically tells him he’s not allowed to sleep under the same roof as his baby girl without being sure they’re legally married. Extreme as it sounds, he knows he needs to re-earn everyone’s favor and trust, and he accepts it. But that night when Donald goes downstairs in his houseboat to use the bathroom, he can hear him crying from the spare room.
Della thanks Scrooge for buying her some time. He tells her he means it - he wants to make sure their marriage is still valid before letting them sleep in the same room. But more than that, he really does want to give Della some time to process everything, guilt-free.
“And what if the lawyer says my marriage is still valid?” she asks. “What then?”
“Then... I suppose the two of you will need to make a decision.”
But Scrooge can see the worry on her face. She doesn’t want a divorce. Would that be fair? Sure, the guy began courting her under false pretenses, but she knows after the interrogation with the Harp of Mervana he didn’t marry her under false pretenses. He really does love her. But would it be fair to him to keep him tied to her when she didn’t want him to touch her? She wished they could start all over... just fall in love all over again. But would she ever be able to do that? And what about the boys? What would be best for them?
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“Ye don’t hafte make any decisions tonight, lass,” Scrooge would interrupt her thoughts. He’d ask her if she feels safe, and if she feels like the boys are safe. After making sure all of Della’s immediate concerns are dealt with, he’d tell her to get some rest.
As for the boys... I can imagine a scene with Huey where he screams “I don’t care that he’s my father! Uncle Donald’s my dad!” and he runs upstairs crying. And it’d be an absolute knife in the father’s heart but at the same time, the gratitude he already felt toward Donald would increase. He wouldn’t resent Donald or blame him. He’d be so glad his boys had a dad in their lives. 
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Still, it would kill him a little inside knowing he didn’t get to be that dad, and that one of his own sons was rejecting him.
I think Dewey, being such a mama’s boy, would have some trouble accepting him, too. He pursued Della under false pretenses, and never told her about F.O.W.L. before he disappeared. She believed for the longest time he abandoned her. As far as Dewey was concerned, he didn’t deserve a perfect woman like Della Duck.
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It would take Huey and Dewey a little time to come around.
And Louie? His loyalty is to his mom and uncle, first. But gahhh he can’t help but pity this dude. Louie’s such a sensitive little guy. He’d pick up on the all the guilt and sorrow and awkwardness and more sorrow between his mother and father and it would bug him, to the point where he starts wondering if his scheming powers might come in handy here, and he tries to reset them up.
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A lawyer does conclude the marriage is still legal since they didn’t divorce and neither of them died. And even without Louie’s help, Della’s hubby has every intention of trying to start over with her. He just wants to make sure he gives her plenty of time, and doesn’t pressure her into anything. 
When they get the news they are still married, they sit down and talk. He is honest with her. He tells her he doesn’t want to divorce her. The vows he made to her (only a few months ago for him) are ones he intends to keep. But he understands, given their bizarre circumstances, if she doesn’t feel the same way. All he asks is that she doesn’t make any decisions quickly, but he will honor whatever she decides. And he asks that, no matter what she decides with regards to them, she lets him stay in their sons’ lives, since now that he knows about them, he can’t just leave them. He intends to get a job and cover their expenses (a decision that wins him points with Scrooge when Scrooge hears about it). Della agrees to his terms. She tells him she doesn’t want a divorce either, but she just doesn’t know how things can return to the way they were.
The fact she doesn’t want a divorce gives him a sliver of hope, but for the time being, he’s just friendly. He suggests they have a game night, just them, the boys, and Donald. He continues to hang out with Della in no-pressure sort of environments, like video game tournaments with her and the kids, family dinners, stuff like that. And he tries to avoid calling her cutesy things and talking to her like they’re married because he doesn’t want her to feel like he’s forcing her into a romantic relationship, but one day he accidentally slips up and says, “Morning, gorgeous,” at breakfast, and before he could kick himself under the table, she smiled and blushed and said, “Hey handsome,” back, and the teasing “OOOOOOOOH,” from the kids sounded like an angel’s choir to him.
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It takes time, but Della does fall in love with him all over again, and one day he gets down on one knee and asks her to stay married to him, and she accepts. They even hold a simple vow renewal ceremony in the backyard (simple, but well-organized and beautiful, with Daisy’s help). 
And because I’m DG and I can’t help myself, OF COURSE THEY HAVE ANOTHER BABY AND GET A CHANCE TO RAISE A FAMILY TOGETHER FROM THE BEGINNING AND THAT BABY WILL BE “TWIN COUSINS” WITH DONALD AND DAISY’S BABY. SO SAITH ME.
WELP that turned into a pointless fanfic considering I don’t think that’s how it’ll go down in the show!
Frank described the family as “complete,” now. And that’s pretty much true. They’re a bunch of pieces of families that came together to make a whole one. They’ve got the brothers (HDL), the sister (Webby), the mommy (Della), the daddy (Donald), the grandma (Mrs. B.), the grandpa (Scrooge), plus whatever the heck Launchpad is (the crazy cousin or family friend who’s always over?). It’d be weird finding a spot for the father. Maybe he really is gone forever. But then again, if there’s a spot for Daisy in the family, maybe there’s still a spot for him, too. Hopefully we’ll find out!
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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years
Note
FFT: I Wrote Myself Back in the Narrative
AHHH. First of all, without YOU, bb.. This idea would’ve never really full on clicked like it has. So.. Thank you so so so much and ILY. Second. This is written first person, split between our mystery guy from part 1 and the female’s pov as they... continue to deal with things. I triiiied things here. 
It’s still angsty as hell, smh. It’s gonna be angsty as hell for a hot minute. Idek if I can promise that it’ll end on a good note. Because now there are two more parts to this. Thank you again, so so much because you heavily inspired me and without the input you gave, ugh. I would’ve fucked this up so bad.
Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Or my /attempt/ at angst. Maybe the next part will be happier, who knows. Are we ready to find out who this man in part 1 was? I have a feeling ya’ll are gonna murder me. OH OH... This whole part of everything takes place over the course of a few weeks in between each section. If that makes sense.
Tag Squad:
@kyleoreillysknee
@rampagewriting
@writertoo18
@thatnerdwriter
@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@unabashedwrestlefics
@adampage
@cabotcoves
@dietwrestling
@heelsamizayn
@missjenniferb
@cowboyshit
[ tag list ] [ masterlist ] [ about ] [ part 1 ] 
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A D A M
“You did the right thing, man. I told ya, you were rushing headfirst into something. You were sparing her, man. We both know where it was heading. Now I know you’ve been missin her lately, but you gotta stay the course… Trust me.” Matt’s voice broke through my thoughts and I forced myself to at least shrug my shoulders and pretend to be listening to him going on and on and on.
It’s nights like tonight I really wish the guy would shut the hell up sometimes. It’s like he thinks it’s his place to tell me exactly what to do. Or when I’m doin’ something and he thinks I ought to be doing it different.
“Matt, man.. C’mon, knock it off. He’s hurting right now.” That was Nick. Probably the only real voice of reason at the moment. I could feel him glare at Matty over my head and I didn’t bother looking up from the lukewarm beer sitting in front of me. Instead, I raised the glass to my lips and did my level best to ignore both. I told them I’d be fine coming out by myself tonight, whether I wanted them tagging along or not, here they were.
In my ear, like usual.
“I’m fine.” the words left my mouth in a harsh tone, the dull ache in my teeth makin me realize just how tight I was clenching my jaw right now. I rubbed my face and tried to get some relief as I looked around the bar.
Beside me on either side, they kept at it, almost as if I hadn’t said a word. Arguin over whether Matt was pushin too hard.
“Besides, man.. When I saw her last week, she looked totally fine.” Matt shrugged, smirking just a little. “In a little bit of a hurry, but she seemed like it didn’t bother her at all. I think she even said something about a date, I don’t know, man. But it’s like I said… You did the right thing. It wasn’t working, so you ended things before someone got hurt and things got real messy.” 
Every part of me tensed up when Matt said he’d seen her and my head snapped around as I looked at him, trying not to lose my temper. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me… Matt was entirely too adamant about me staying away.
And we all know how he is when he wants something. 
,, you’re the one who let her go. Did you think she’d just sit around waitin?” the thought came and man was I bitter about it. 
“You look mad, Adam.”
“Well I’m not thrilled right now, Matt.” the words came out before I could stop them. And when they did, I realized just how much the thought of Matt Jackson anywhere near her really bothered me. How much it had all along. Because he thinks I’m stupid but I knew every single time he flirted with her. I know he’s the one who told her about my last relationship and how messed up I was when it ended.
How my ex was the love of my life, to quote him. While true, I didn’t want or need him speaking for me and telling her that. I didn’t ask him to butt in.
,, you never do, to be honest.” 
My hand curled around the bottle sitting in front of me and I shotgunned it. If I didn’t so something, I was going to wind up havin it out with Matt Jackson once and for all. Not that it hasn’t been a long time comin.. Between him and Kenny, as of late, I’m startin to lose my damn mind.
I stay angry.
They’re supposed to be my best friends, damn it. I don’t wanna hate my best friends. I try not to. I do everything but bend over backwards to avoid rocking the boat. But Matt seein her and just throwing it up in conversation just now, with that fucking smirk. Like he’s trying to rub it in. I’m dangerously close to no longer caring.
I had to get outta there. Away from the two of them. I needed to be alone. I needed to think. To have time to hurt and feel like I was free to do it. 
“Where are you going, huh? We’ve got food coming, man. C’mon. Stay out with us. You can’t keep going to your room and hiding.” Nick was trying desperately to keep the peace but honestly, I didn’t want to. I snatched up the remainder of the six pack I bought from the bartender earlier in the night, slammed badly wadded money down on the counter and I stood, shoving the stool back beneath the bar.
Nick caught up to me outside the bar, reaching out for my arm, trying to stop me, but I shoved his hand off. 
“Can’t either of ya take a damn hint? I don’t wanna talk about how I did the right thing. I don’t wanna hear about Matt runnin into her. I just wanna go five goddamn minutes without feelin, okay? Can either of ya just let me have that?”
Nick flinched and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Nick’s done nothin to me. Not like his brother and Kenny, always in my ear, always tryin to make me fall back in line and ignore my own gut. Or my own desires.
“Sorry, Nick. Look. I appreciate what you’re tryin to do but I ain’t exactly in the mood tonight, man. And I might not be in the mood for a while. And ya’ll have to be okay with that. Stop trying to make me snap out of it.”
“This is because Matt pulled that shit in there, right? I’ll talk to him later. Just take your time, man.” Nick managed a smile and I nodded, agreeing.
After he went back inside the bar to finish whatever food they ordered while watching the tail end of the game they’d dragged me out to watch with them tonight, I called an Uber and as I waited, I found myself doing it yet again.
Hovering over ❤ in my contacts, I was torn between finally doing it, finally deleting the last trace of her I had, from my life and just hitting call, just to see if she’d answer. Frustration made me shove the phone back into the pocket of my jeans without doing either and I went back to leaning up against the wall of the sports bar as I finished the open beer in my hand. I took the last sip, feeling the warmth slide down my throat and settle in my stomach, grimacing at the hangover already in progress. The Uber I’d called for pulled to a stop beside me and I got in, giving directions to the hotel and going silent after.
All the way across town and back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about that last night I saw her. Or the way it hurt like hell when Matt told me she seemed fine. 
,, do you really want it to hurt her, though?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t deny that maybe a part of me wanted her to miss me just a little. To hear Matt tell it, she’s fine and dandy. And this lead me to circle right back to how calmly she handled the whole thing that night.
And those doubts crept right back in again.
Maybe the guys were right. Maybe I did the right thing.
,, and Matt having a thing for flirting with her when you were together, right under your nose at that, that has absolutely nothing to do with why he thought it was a good idea.” 
All I could honestly do was just sit in the backseat of the Uber and knock ‘em back, one behind the other. Anything else is out of the question right now. I am not goin’ down this road while I’m drunk and missin her.
If I did go down any road as far as all this is concerned, I wanna be one hundred percent sure I feel what I feel. I need to think. I need time outta the situation, without people in my ear.
This is something I have to do on my own.
VERONICA
Like most other nights, I tossed and turned on the king sized bed before finally calling it and getting up, grumbling to myself as I made my way down the hallway and into my kitchen. I started myself a pot of coffee and as I did that, I found myself scrolling Instagram.
Naturally, I found myself doing it, even though I unfollowed him on literally everything after things ended between us because it just hurt too damn much.
It’s been almost 5 months now and it still hurts. The pain still cuts like a knife when I actually give myself a little time to let it linger.
Kind of why I’ve thrown myself into work. I even made a Tinder profile, even though I’m absolutely loathe to use the damn thing.
Before I realized what I’d done, I’d typed his instagram handle into the search bar and I found myself scrolling his timeline while I sipped a steamy mug of coffee. “At least he looks okay.” I muttered to myself, shattering the heavy silence around me.
Despite myself, I wound up spending entirely too much time watching one of his random post match videos. Fingertip against the screen. It hurt so goddamn much and yet, it had to happen because all I could think about was how much he loved someone else and just kind of… settled for me.
Running into his friend Matt earlier this week hadn’t helped all this recent re-stirring. Because even now, actively not trying to think back and hurt and miss Adam knowing what happened between us was for the best… I kept going back to Matt reassuring me that Adam was perfectly fine and that he hadn’t been bothered by breaking up with me at all. And I kept getting more and more bitter over it.
When I felt a tear trek down my cheek, I tossed the phone onto the counter and scowled at my reflection in the microwave. 
I told myself I was not settling for being silver. I wanna be someone’s gold.
,, but he made it so fucking easy to fall hard and fast. Get so wrapped up in him that for a little while, you didn’t think about that.” I blatantly shoved the thought down as soon as it crossed my mind and with a sigh, I sat the cup of coffee in the sink half drank.
I’ve got work. Other things to focus on. And I’m trying to look at the bright side here. One day, I’ll be someone’s gold.
VERONICA
→ You know you’re coming out with us tonight, right girl?
I got the text at 4:30, just as I walked out of the building I work in and stopped to dig around in my purse for my car keys. Once I read it, I laughed to myself and managed a smile. Normally, I’d have begged off. It’s what I’ve been doing a lot since things ended between Adam and I.
But I remembered what Matt told me two weeks ago when I bumped into him. Adam hasn’t wasted a single second caught up in what might have been. Why should I?
← Sure. 8, right? The usual spot?
→ Holy shit, is this a Christmas miracle coming early? You’re finally going to take a break from being Little Ms. Moneymaker?
I laughed to myself and opened the door to my car, getting in. As soon as I had, I dialed Marti’s  number.
“Little Ms. Moneymaker, my ass. I’d like to see one shred of this money you think I’m making.” I responded to her last text seconds before, she hadn’t even said hello yet.
Marti laughed.
I turned into traffic, promptly getting stuck at a long red. “Fuck me alive.. It had to be the longest light in town.” I grumbled to myself, listening to Marti telling me about a soccer player she met at our usual bar a few weeks ago and how he’s supposed to be back from the road tonight and meeting her.
“Oh? Well, guess who made a Tinder and hasn’t bothered looking at it since.”
“You.. Wait…” Marti was laughing, I know she didn’t believe me, “You made a Tinder.”
“Yes.” I almost wanted to laugh at myself, shaking my head as I admitted it. 
“Well? Have you met anybody?” she grilled.
“I made the profile and haven’t bothered looking at it since.” I admitted sheepishly, foot on the gas as the light changed from red to green. 
“That’s it. Tonight, so help me. You’re swiping right on at least one guy.”
“Teenie..”
“Don’t Teenie me. This is happening. Not to mention, I have to see if you actually made your profile worth looking at twice. Especially if you want hookups. And trust me girl, you need a hookup.”
“Like I need a goddamn hole in my head.” I snorted in laughter as I pulled my car to a stop at the curb in front of my house. “But fine.. Since you insist. You can look over my Tinder profile and see if it looks like I’m worth risking a swipe on.”
“You are, don’t say that. You just… try to hide the real you under all that boring shit.”
I bit my lip as I let her words sink in.
Maybe she had a point. I hadn’t truly let Adam in until I thought it was safe to do so and look how that one turned out. I sighed quietly, nodding to myself as I shut the door to my car with my hip. “Okay. Hint taken. But maybe I need to change all that.”
“So maybe you’ll pull the stick out of your ass tonight and have just a little fun? You know I hate seeing you hurting like this.”
“It doesn’t hurt. It was for the best… That whole thing ended.”
As much as I hate admitting it, given what Matt told me when we ran into each other, things ending with Adam and I had to be the right choice.
,, but what if you’re totally wrong?”
ADAM
I’m not even sure what possessed me to look her up when we got a little break between shows and the road. I don’t know what the hell I thought it’d accomplish, casually bumpin into her again, other than ripping the band-aid off a healing wound.
But here I was. Standing in the parking lot of her office building. Hidden out of sight, of course. Not that I was going to stay hidden. No, I’d come all this way to do exactly one thing… To fix the mess I now know full well I made that night.
I’ve had time out of it all and I realized one thing.
Somewhere in everything, I really had fallen for her. Hard.
I just had to hope it wasn’t too late. But prepare myself because lately, my luck’s been absolute shit.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched her walking out. I bit my lip, eyes roaming slowly, just taking her in. Because I hadn’t done that nearly enough when she was mine. I was an idiot.
Seeing her again felt like a suckerpunch to the stomach. The wind got knocked right out of me. I stood there, trying to will myself to step out. To say or do anything. Even if it was simple as a hey.
She walked right past me, towards her Camaro a few rows back and she leaned against the Camaro, laughing and talking. I had to get closer but at the same time, I knew that all I was doing was torturing myself, especially if I came all this way and said nothing.
I watched her smile light up the world around me as a car pulled to a stop next to her car. The guy got out and she smiled even brighter, her cheeks tinting pink, her eyes lighting up, the streetlight above bathing her in a cool white glow as the sun sank lower.
The guy didn’t strike me as her type. Dark haired, wearin a suit. He held out a bouquet of roses and my stomach sank to the ground. I raised a hand, tugging at my hair as it hit me.
Everything I realized recently was too little, too late.
I turned and started to walk away, I think I wandered about two blocks before I stopped at a little bar and went in, ordering myself a few rounds. Almost the instant my ass met stool, my cell phone was buzzing in my pocket. I rolled my eyes when I realized that it was Kenny calling.
Kenny who suggested I come here. Seeing her might prove things one way or another. I shouldn’t have fucking listened to him, but naturally.. He insisted, so I finally gave in to get him off my ass.
“Well?”
“I think it’s really over, man. I saw her, alright. And she’s happy. Too happy to do what I came to do.”
“So you’re good now. You can let this go. You can stop all this pushing you’ve been doing lately?”
“Oh, I’m not stoppin that. We all know I deserve a shot. I just know better than to mess up her happiness. I love her too much for that.”
“Damn it, Adam, we’ve all went over this with you. Your time is coming. Just not right now. Besides, “ Kenny paused, taking a few deep breaths. I could feel his annoyance over the conversation through the phone.
That’s not a surprise. Lately, I’ve started to see that unless it’s about them? They’re not interested. And maybe I’m tired of letting everybody else dictate what direction I take. Hell, that’s the whole reason I ended things with her to begin with. 
I let my insecurities get in the way. Kept thinking one day she’d leave too.
Now I just want her back.
So if I can’t have her back? I’m at least going to do something about everything else I want that stays just outside my grasp.
“Besides what, huh?” I snapped, chewing on a toothpick I’d taken from the little dispenser full sitting in front of me, scowling at the phone in my hands.
“You’re not in your best form right now, buddy and you haven’t been in weeks.”
I hung up before he could say anything else.
And as I sat there, nursing round after round, I found myself doing it for the millionth time… Going to her instagram and going through every single thing she’s posted. Hovering over her name in my contacts list and nearly calling five, six, almost seven times before I finally sighed and made myself delete her number.
I really fucked it up this time.
And honestly? Knowing that hurts more than the end ever did in the first place...
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cynicallystiles · 5 years
Text
Always Here
Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.
Author: @cynicallystiles
Request:  Anon: Could you write one with Justin? Like maybe something like they’re together but it’s a secret. And one day they’re at his and Clays place cuddling and being cute and then Clay catches them? Cuddling with Justin just seems like the sweetest thing tbh
Warning: Verbally abusive parent, and maybe cursing? I can’t remember.
Notes: Thank you for requesting it, I hope it is somewhat like you imagined anon! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy!
Pairing: Justin Foley x Reader
Masterlist
Words: 2,001
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You feel his lips move against yours slowly as his fingers press into your waist. A content hum escapes your throat and both hands grip his hair a little bit harder. Delicately, you drag your tongue across his bottom lip. His hands squeeze even harder as he groans involuntarily while pulling away from you.
"Wait, wait, wait," he pauses, letting his heavy pants calm down. "As much as I love when you do that..." He stops and looks from your eyes to your lips longingly, "and I really, really love when you do that...we should stop before we get caught," he sighs, looking around the abandoned hallway for any sign of your classmates.
Pushing your bottom lip out, you let your head fall backward dramatically. "Uggh," you groan playfully and slide your hands from his hair to his chest to grip his open button-up.
"Heyy," he chuckles, trying to lean his head into your line of sight. You let your head fall back forward to face him, though your eyes watch as your fingers trail the fabric of his shirt. "Y/n, don't pout."
You bobble your head a little, raising one eyebrow. "'M not pouting," you murmur. He lets out a huff, and you finally crack a smile. "I'm not. Really. Justin, I know we both decided to keep this...us...a secret..."
"But?" He prompts you to continue when you start to lose your confidence.
"I dunno," you say with a shrug. "That was back when everything crazy was happening." You finally look up into his eyes. "It's been almost a year...I just thought by now I could show you off."
He laughs and pulls you into a hug by your shoulders. You clasp your hands behind his back quickly before he pulls back again, cupping your face with one hand. "Now still isn't a good time...I wasn't supposed to start dating until I've been sober for a year. And even then, they say I'm supposed to take it slow-"
"Oh, you can take it slow when you want to," you tease, nibbling on your bottom lip. He rolls his eyes, fighting the laughter that bubbles up. Sighing, you place your hand over his. "I get it. We can just...stay secret until it's a better time."
He leans forward and places the softest of kisses on your lips for a few moments. "Thank you, baby. I appreciate you so much." You give a lackluster smile as he brushes your nose with his.
"Bell's about to ring...I should get to my locker," you say softly, unable to hide the tinge of disappointment that comes out. But, before Justin can reassure you again, you're already out the double doors into the next hallway.
Later, you sit at the lunch table with your group of friends and zone out into your food as you take a small bite every once in a while. You hear your friends laugh around you, but it's not until Clay bumps your shoulder with his that you look up to meet his eyes.
"Huh? What?" You ask, blinking in surprise.
He snickers a little. "I said you've been unusually quiet today," he says observantly. "Is everything okay?"
"Uh..." your eyes flick across the table to Justin who looks at you with brows furrowed in concern. Just as quickly, you look back to Clay. "I've just been feeling off today. I think I might be sick or something," you half-lie.
Clay promptly puts his wrist to your forehead. "There's no way...yep. As I thought, no fever," he says shaking his head as he looks you over. He pulls on your ear as he pretends to look in. "Nope, nothing in there..." Then, he leans his head to your chest for your heartbeat. "All good there..."
"Stop!" You giggle trying to push him away.
"What? I'm just trying to make sure my best friend is getting the proper attention she deserves," he laughs. "Give me an 'aaah'."
You stick your tongue out at him but keep your mouth closed. "Mmm," you hum before snickering with him. "I feel better now. Thanks, Clay."
"Another satisfied patient!" He jokes and you shake your head before getting up to throw your tray away.
Justin rests his forearms on the table as he watches as you go, slight jealousy burning in his cheeks that Clay is being so openly affectionate with you. He knows the two of you are best friends, and he loves that. But, sometimes he wishes he could be like that and more with you.
The rest of the day goes by and the final bell rings to let out for the day. You gather your things. Deciding not to get a ride home from Clay and Justin, you hop on the bus that goes by your house. As soon as the bus pulls out of the parking lot, you get a text.
JJ: Where you at?
Sighing, you respond quickly.
You: Took the bus today, didn't wanna make you late for your meeting
It wasn't a total lie. It just wasn't exactly the truth either. You'd been feeling bummed about your conversation earlier and you didn't want to make Justin feel bad about your mood.
JJ: Wish you would've told me. We would've at least walked you to the bus babe
You: I know. I'll stop by after your meeting while Clay's at work
You lean your head against the window as the bus rocks gently. You were really hoping that you'd be out of your weird mood by then. Too bad you can never seem to catch a break. As soon as you get home, the usual drama starts in.
"You're home early today," your brother pointed out, calling the attention of your dear mother.
Inhaling deeply, you retreat into the living room where she sits on the couch. "That deadbeat boyfriend of yours finally drop ya?"
"No, ma." You ground your teeth. Hating the way she talked about Justin. "I took the bus."
She rolls her eyes from the TV screen to you, sizing up your outfit. "Is that what you wore to school?" You stay silent and stare at the ground. "I've told you before...no nice boy is gonna want to date you when you dress like that-"
"Dressed like what, ma?" You deadpan.
"Some kind of hussie," she bites. "It's why you only attract junkies like your boy toy. You could date a nice football player if you wanted. They're going places. And they might as well take you with 'em."
You frown deeply as you turn and head out the front door without another word. It's a long walk to Justin's house but you don't really care right now. You hug your arms to your chest and feel the tears dripping from your eyelashes. It bugged you how easily she tore apart your confidence. You felt like you should have thicker skin after living with it for this long.
The sun was setting when you made it to Justin's house. You stopped down the street and wait until you see Clay's car leave the driveway. Quickly, you walked to the carriage house where the two boys stay now. You tapped on the door quietly before stepping back and waiting.
You were beginning to think he didn't hear you as the seconds ticked by so you raise your hand to tap again. Then, the door swings open and startled you. "Y/n? You're here early," he observes, pulling you in from the biting winter air. "You're freezing! Did you walk here?"
Nodding, you let him lead you to the bed. You kick off your shoes while he disappears into the closet for something. He re-emerges with his favorite sweatshirt and gives it to you. You shed your frozen through coat and put on the warm sweatshirt.
"How many times have I told you not to walk here in the winter?" He asks exasperatedly. You shrug silently, lacking any energy to quip back. He begins noticing your behavior. "What happened?"
You look at him with watery eyes, your lip quivering while you fight the emotions. "Oh, baby..." he whispers and pulls you into him. That's all it takes for you to release all your pain. Your shoulders shake and your face contorts as your body is wracked with silent cries.
He lays you down, cuddling you from behind. Justin knows the only thing that makes you like this. It's not the first time it's happened. You showing up at his door a wreck and no idea how to stop it.
You begin to calm down as the tears make your eyelids heavy. Justin gently runs his fingers through your hair, comforting you with soft kisses behind your ear. "Everything's gonna be okay, y/n. Only a few more months and we can go wherever we want. All we need is each other. Okay? I'll always be here for you," he lulls you into a calm state of sleep with his words.
Thirty minutes later when you're sound asleep, lights flash across the windows and Justin hears a car pull into the driveway. Normally, you'd both panic and you'd hide or quickly go out the window. But, you were so exhausted that he couldn't possibly be so cruel to wake you.
Instead, he buries his nose in your hair as the doorknob turns and it pushes open. Clay enters, not noticing you yet. "So turns out," he begins while shedding his coat, "they scheduled me tomorrow and not tod-" he stops in the middle of laying his coat on a chair.
Justin simply looks at him calmly. "Keep it down, would you?" He whispers only slightly sarcastically.
"What's going on here?" Clay questions in whispers.
"What's it look like?" Fully sarcastic. He loves Clay, but he will not hesitate to kick his ass if he wakes you up.
His eyebrows raise and he contemplates the scene. "Uhhh..." he walks over and sits down on his bed. "It looks like you're spooning y/n while she sleeps." Justin squints at him. "Wait, is this a thing?" A tiny tinge of excitement in his voice.
"Yeah," Justin smiles to himself. He's tired of sneaking around and he honestly doesn't even remember why he still wanted to at this moment. "Yeah, it is. Has been for a while," he admits.
Clay breaks out into the most ecstatic smile he's ever seen. "Really? Oh man!" He fights to keep his voice down when he laughs. "That's so great. You two are so good together. I was just waiting for you guys to realize it!"
"You what?" Justin asks quizzically. This was not the reaction he was expecting.
He rolls his eyes. "I've been dropping hints to y/n for months about you two should go out," he rambles. Justin looks down at your sleeping face. "I mean, you two are the most stubborn and strong people I know. No one else would ever keep up with you two."
"Huh," Justin chuckles before looking back to Clay. You must've been keeping those hints a secret. "You're right. Sometimes I can't even keep up with her. But, I sure love trying..."
A small smile comes to your lips. "Me too," you mumble. He rolls his head back and over to you.
"And...you've been awake the whole time," he surmises with a laugh.
You shrug, opening your eyes fully and look from him to Clay. "It's not exactly like either of you are quiet when you whisper." You smirk jokingly.
Justin glares daggers at Clay, who holds his hands up in innocence. "Hold up, it's not my fault," he pleads as Justin springs up and over to Clay. "I'm sorry! Ah! Okay, I'm sorry," he apologizes through laughs as the two begin to wrestle.
You just giggle as you watch them act like brothers. These two really felt like home. Without warning, you hop into their play fight and you all laugh hysterically.
Justin Taglist: @elfie6405​​ @fandomrulesall​ @crazyfangirrll​
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